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(1C     -          '*"      Av» 

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Len«   Be«eK,  Cat 


THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


BY 

ELIZA  B.  SWAN, 

AUTHOR  OF  "ONCE  A  YEAR;  OR,  THE  DOCTORS'  PUZZLE." 


'Rising  from  the  barely  good  to  the  better  and  the  best." 

-DR.  JUDSON. 


CINCINNATI: 

EGBERT   CLARKE  &   CO. 
1892. 


COPYRIGHT,  1892, 
BY  ELIZA  B.  SWAN. 


IN  MEMORY  OF  MY  SAINTED  MOTHEE, 

WHOSE   LIFE  WAS  A  CONSTANT  INSPIRATION  TO   HOLY  LIVING, 

AND 
FOR    THE    SAKE    OF    THE    MASTER, 

"  Whose  I  am  and  Whom  I  serve," 


"  The  great  fad  is  that  life  is  a  service;  the  only  question  is  whom 
will  we  serve." — FABER. 

(iii) 


2046431 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE. 


The  author  finds  some  embarrassment  between  the  desire 
of  presenting  the  character  of  Mr.  Earle  in  the  stronger  lights 
which  his  letters  would  reveal,  and  the  danger  of  clogging  the 
narrative  with  irrelevant  matter  and  thus  weaken  the  interest 
in  Miss  Archer's  career.  A  correspondence  between  Mr.  Earle 
and  a  college  friend,  Mr.  Arthur  Doane,  is  in  the  author's 
hands,  and  the  temptation  is  strong  to  introduce  these  letters. 
But  as  they  treat  mainly  of  his  connection  with  the  "  Mon- 
boddo  School,"  and  the  literary  development  through  which 
he  was  passing  at  that  period,  it  is  necessary  to  content  our-' 
selves  with  an  extract,  here  and  there,  from  these  letters. 

For  this  same  reason  (preserving  the  unities  of  the  story), 
the  history  of  the  eccentricities  of  the  noted  teacher,  his  deal- 
ings with  his  pupils,  his  discussions  of  the  principles  of  the 
"  literary  art,"  and  his  methods  and  suggestions  as  to  the  work 
of  teaching,  are  detached  from  the  story  proper,  although  syn- 
chronously belonging  to  it. 

Those  interested  in  the  "Monboddo  School "  will  find  the 
lectures  ("examinations")  of  the  Professor,  as  well  as  the  let- 
ters of  Mr.  Earle,  in  Part  Second  at  the  close  of  the  volume. 

It-is  thought  best  to  reserve  the  essays  referred  to  in  the 
Preface  for  another  work. 

(iv) 


PREFACE. 

DTJKING  the  author's  career  as  an  educator,  gradu- 
ated pupils  would  come  to  her  for  some  programme 
of  mental  work.  After  the  debut  into  society  (which 
event  as  anticipated  in  school-life  was  set  in  a  halo 
of  unique,  rosy  charm)  and  the  "round"  of  accom- 
panying excitements,  there  would  come  a  reaction  in 
which  majesty  of  soul  would  assert  its  priority,  and 
the  intellect  would  cry  aloud  for — "  something  to 
do  !  "  Their  skilled  powers,  equipped  for  earnest 
endeavor,  pleaded  for  an  opportunity  to  exercise  them- 
selves upon  some  aim  worthy  of  their  devotion. 

It  has  been  a  great  pleasure  to  be  a  guiding-hand 
to  these  aspiring  ones,  who  in  the  auld  lang  syne 
were  wont  to  follow  whither  she  led,  and  to  accept — 
with  an  "abandon"  of  trust,  beautiful  to  see  in  gifted 
youth — her  estimate  of  their  capacity  for  every  un- 
dertaking. Thus  it  has  been  her  high  privilege  to 
still  aid  the  dear  pupils,  when  separated  from  their 
Alma  Mater. 

It  is  with  some  such  intent — that  is,  a  continuance 
of  instruction  to  those  seeking  new  avenues  of  intel- 
lectual exploit,  that  the  present  story  has  been  writ- 
ten. 

In  the  composition-course  outlined  by  "  Professor 
Monboddo,"  and  illustrated  in  part  by  his  pupil,  Mr. 
Channing  Earle  (in  the  essays  at  the  close  of  the 
volume),  they  will  recognize  the  old  landmarks  set 
up  for  their  direction. 

In  addition  to  exercises  in  narration,  description 
(first  of  animate,  then  of  inanimate  objects),  and 
imagination — including  both  description  and  narra- 

(v) 


vi  PREFACE. 


—  the  class  was  drilled  for  one  year  in  argumen- 
tative discourse  —  this  also  including  fact  and  fancy 
—  profound  questions  in  ethics,  science,  politics,  and 
practicalities,  or  the  lighter  queries  of  humor  and 
imagination. 

After  discussions,  came  dialogues,  colloquies,  and 
then  the  essay  proper,  the  student  being  now  in  a 
condition  to  handle  a  subject  more  in  accordance 
with  the  approved  methods  and  better  able  to  ap- 
proximate that  high  standard  with  its  divisions,  sub- 
divisions, and  elaborate  inferences  and  conclusions. 

Reviews  of  short,  choice  works  in  prose  and  poetry 
were  next  in  order,  after  which  came  the  biography. 
When  the  class-material  would  justify  the  experiment 
there  would  be  a  short  excursion  into  the  fields  of 
poetry.  History,  requiring  the  utmost  fidelity  to 
truth  and  fact,  unwearied  patience  of  research,  and 
the  wise  discrimination  of  mature  powers  as  well  as 
a  full  garner  of  rich  imagery  and  thought,  was  the 
last  in  the  series. 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  course  successfully 
carried  out  through  a  period  of  twelve  years. 

"  Professor  Monboddo"  now  attempts,  in  this  vol- 
ume, to  open  the  way  to  the  ambitious  scholar  into 
the  broader  fields  of  "  design  in  literature  "  whose 
outcome  is  the  story  and  the  novel.  The  Professor 
is  an  enthusiast  —  some  might  say,  a  crack-brained 
enthusiast  :  —  but  it  is  only  they  who  are  possessed  of 
a  vitality  equally  intense  at  the  seat  of  capillary 
action,  whose  blood  is  valuable  for  transfusion  ! 

Let  us  hope  that  the  soundness  of  the  Professor's 
methods  and  their  successful  development  by  those 
whom  he  attracts,  may  excuse  his  eccentricity  in 
imparting  the  information,  and  that  his  fervor  may 
at  least  produce  this  one  good  result,  viz.  :  —  that  of 
satisfying  the  restless,  tormenting  craving  for  "some- 
thing to  do  !  " 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  Letter  9 

II.  A  Peep  at  Brentville  -    16 

III.  The  Tableau  28 

IV.  "  Gran  "  -    37 
V.  The  "  Season  "  Opens  51 

VI.  Letter  to  Art  on  Opal  •    62 

VII.  Letter  to  Arthur  Doane    -  74 

VIII.  Otto  Bresson's  Success          -  -    82 

IX.  The  Jewels  88 

X.  What  Did  She  Mean?  -    97 

XI.  Sketch  I.— Childhood's  Days  103 

XII.  The  First  Greek  Festival       -  -  126 

XIII.  WJiat  the  "  New  Era"  Said        -  141 

XIV.  Doubts  -  147 
XV.  Summer  Touring  -        153 

XVI.  October's  Lesson        -  -  162 

XVII.  The  Withdrawal  169 

XVIII.  The  Legacy  -  179 

XIX.  Voices  from  the  Village  186 

XX.  The  Opal  League  -  197 

XXI.  Arthur's  Letter  and  Channing's  Confession      -        200 

XXII.  Channing  Reviews  the  Situation      -  -  208 

XXIII.  Gate  of  the  Saints' Rest    -  213 

XXIV.  The  Surprise  -  219 
XXV.  Channing's  Fortune  -        228 

XXVI.  Elise  Returns  -  240 

XXVII.  Elise  Crosses  the  Last  Threshold  -        2.r>0 

XXVIII.  The  Pestilence-  --259 

XXIX.  The  Explanation  -  -        267 

(vii) 


viii  CONTENDS. 

PART  SECOND 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Letter  to  Arthur  Donne        -  -  275 

II.  Professor  Moliboddo's  First  '•  Examination  " — Dis- 
cussion of  the  Phrase  "Ladies  and  Gentle- 
men"— School  for  Authors  and  Journalists  -  279 

III.  Letter  to  Arthur  Donne        -  -  290 

IV.  Second  "  Examination  "—Genius,  and  Hindrances 

to  Its  Development  -  295 

V.  Third  "  Examination  "—The  Spirit  of  the  Author  305 

VI.  Letter  to  Arthur  Doane  -  312 

VII.  Letter  to  Arthur  Doane    -  -        314 

VIII.  Fourth  "  Examination  "—Plots  and  Development 

of  the  Novel — Study  of  Character  Drawing  -        322 
IX.   Letter  to  Arthur  Doane  -  337 

X    Fiftli    "  Examination  " — Novels— The   Hero  and 

the  Heroine  -  343 

XI.  Letter  to  Arthur  Doane   -  -        353 

XII.  Sixth    "  Examination  '— Cultivation   of  a   Good 

Style      -  -        362 

XIII.  Letter  to  Arthur  Doane  -307 

XIV.  Seventh  "Examination  " — Lack  of  Incident  in  the 

Novel  -  -  -  37:1 

XV.  Letter   to   Arthur  Doane  -        379 

XVI.  Eiirhth    "Examination"  —  Time    and    Place    for 

Writing — Steadiness  to  Finish  Work  -        384 


THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   LETTER. 

"  GOOD  news  for  you,  darling !  "  said  Mrs.  Healey, 
folding  the  letter  that  she  had  been  reading,  and 
replacing  it  in  the  envelope. 

The  Doctor's  eyes  brightened  as  he  replied,  good- 
naturedly,  "Well,  let's  have  it." 

"  But  you  must  guess,"  his  wife  replied.  "  Who 
do  you  think  is  coining  to  this  very  town,  and  going — • 
wait,  let  me  see,"  she  said,  reopening  the  letter — "  yes, 
going  to  spend  the  whole  winter  here;  and  perhaps — 
why,  can  that  be  possible  ?  "  she  inquired  of  herself 
dubiously,  and  turned  again  to  the  letter.  Having 
satisfied  herself  of  the  truth  of  the  announcement 
she  was  about  to  make,  she  exclaimed,  with  a  burst 
of  enthusiasm,  "Yes,  Doctor,  perhaps  remain." 

"  Coming  to  visit  us,  Lily,  is  this  incognitum — is 
it  so  writ  in  the  bond  ?" 

Mrs.  Healey  again  referred  to  the  letter. 

"  Why,  my  dear,  your  memory  needs  refreshing 
very  often — such  good  news  ought  to  sink  deeper 
than  that." 

"  I  was  going  to  read  you  the  very  words,"  Mrs. 
Healey  explained. 

"  But  first  enlighten  me  as  to  the  writer  of  that 
much-handled  epistle  ;  perhaps  I  shall  not  care  for 
it  verbatim  et  literatim  when  I  find  out  who  he  or 
she  really  is." 

(iz) 


10  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  But  you  haven't  guessed,"  replied  his  wife. 

"  Well,  you  seem  elated ;  I  guess  it's  your  aunt 
Esther — I  think  she  has  most  of  the  'remaining' 
qualities  of  any  of  your  friends — excuse  me,  dear, 
our  friends,  I  meant  to  say,"  he  quickly  added  as  he 
perceived  the  rising  blush  on  Mrs.  Healey 's  face. 
"But  seriously,  Lily,  you  do  not  think  of  adding 
her  to  the  family  permanently,  I  hope.  I'm  fond  of 
my  relations,  you  know,"  he  continued  with  quizzical 
gravity,  "but  there's  nothing  like  keeping  each  species 
separate  and  distinct.  Now,  in  vegetable  life,  you 
cannot  even  mix  varieties  of  the  same -species  with- 
out accumulating  so  much  heat  that  some  of  the 
plants  suffer." 

Mrs.  Healey  did  not  reply.  Neither  her  face  nor 
her  manner  gave  the  least  clue  to  her  thoughts,  and 
the  Doctor  was  baffled.  But  he  had  learned  how 
best  to  humor  his  wife,  and  went  on  with  his  mono- 
logue. 

u  But  perhaps  you  are  not  in  a  mood  to  relish 
botanical  metaphors  this  morning,  Mrs.  Healey, 
and,  as  I  am  reminded  by  the  garments  fluttering  in 
the  breeze  of  an  ancient  but  not  forgotten  art  of 
housewifery,  permit  me  to  quote  to  you  the  old 
adage,  *  Every  tub  must  stand  on  its  own  bottom ' — 
with  my  amendment,  and  in  its  own  laundry." 

Mrs.  Henley's  face  had  shown  signs  of  increasing 
mirth,  and  now  she  exclaimed,  laughing : 

"  Well,  dear,  that  homily  is  lost,  for  it  isn't  Aunt 
Esther,  at  all.  It  is  an  ardent  admirer  of  mine." 

"  Aha !  so  blows  the  wind  !  All  the  more  reason 
for  my  homily,  then  ;  for  as  master  of  this  domicile, 
Mrs.  Healey,  I  cannot  give  my  consent  to  any  per- 
manent arrangement  for  your  old  suitors,"  observed 
the  Doctor  with  mock  gravity. 

"  But,  dear,  you  advance  too  rapidly.  I  thought 
only  women  jumped  at  conclusions,"  she  added 
archly,  placing  herself  on  a  low  chair  by  his  side. 
"  But  I  will  release  you  from  Doubting  Castle  now, 
as  I  am  sure  you  would  never  guess.  It  is  my  sweet, 


THE  LETTER.  11 

darling  friend,  and  your  old  pet" — the  Doctor's  eyes 
grew  bigger — "  Elise  Archer,  who  is  coming.  Don't 
you.  know,  she  always  called  herself  my  devoted 
admirer  ?  " 

"  And  mine  too,  eh,  Lily  ? "  the  Doctor  replied 
with  a  laugh  of  satisfaction.  "You  have  indeed 
good  news,  wife  kin  ;  it  acts  like  a  tonic  on  me.  I 
shall  be  invigorated  for  all  day." 

"  Just  as  though  you  needed  any  extra  stimulant," 
Lily  said,  slyly  putting  her  hand  in  his,  "when  you 
have  me  all  prescribed  and  regulated  and  labeled 
according  to  your  own  order  ;  "  and  she  turned  a  face 
full  of  confiding  love  up  to  her  husband. 

"  That's  a  fact,  Lily,"  the  Doctor  said,  leaning 
over  the  curly  head  and  imprinting  a  kiss  upon  the 
fair  cheek.  "  You  are  my  elixir,  but  she — well, 
you  know  she  is  my  El-i-za.  There  is  a  difference, 
I  admit;  and  I  concede  further  that  the  personal  pro- 
noun preceding  that  proper  noun  is  out  of  place, 
for  I  have  no  investment  in  her  whatever,  and,  further- 
more, renounce  what  little  I  ever  had.  She  shall  be 
yours  exclusively,  Lily,  and  I  will  have  my  Chan- 
ning — how  will  that  arrangement  suit?" 

"Channing  Eaiie?  Why,  yes,  dear,  if  you  like; 
but " 

"  But  what?  I  did  not  dream  that  there  could  be 
a  negative  hypothesis  or  a  doubt  where  Channing 
was  in  question." 

"  But  I  never  knew  that  he  had  taken  a  striking 
fancy  to  you " 

"Pshaw!  What  matters  that?  Likes  and  dislikes 
are  not  so  much  fruits  of  fancy  as  you  think.  We 
men  don't  look  at  it  that  way.  He  is  a  fine,  sensible 
fellow — we  are  mutually  pleased  with  each  other  ;  now 
if  I  conclude  to  yoke  him  into  a  closer  d  la  Damon 
and  Pythias  bond  of  union,  it  is  easy  enough  to 
entice  him  into  it.  Be  lovely  to  him,  and  he  flies 
right  into  my  arms,  just  as  the  iron  filings  fly  to  the 
magnetized  ore." 

"  Don't  be  nonsensical,  dear !     Channing  is  every 


12  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

i 

inch  a  man,  young  as  he  is,  and  not  one,  you'll  find, 
to  go  at  every  one's  beck  and  call." 

"Then  I'll  pass  him  over  to  Elise  ;  how  will  that 
please  you?" 

"  Why,  dear !  "  Mrs.  Healey  exclaimed,  in  a  remon- 
strating tone,  "why  do  we  introduce  him  at -all  into 
this  talk  ?  Elise  is  coming,  and  that  is  all  my  heart 
and  mind  can  hold  to-day." 

"Your  voice  sounds  as  though  your  'foot  was 
down,'  Mrs.  Healey,  so  I  must  even  acquiesce  like  the 
model  husband  I  am.  We  will  drop  Channing.  Be- 
hold him  non  est!  He  shall  remain  in  his  domicile, 
and  we  in  ours.  Is  that  right  ?  Isn't  my  little  woman 
finical  this  morning  ?  " 

"  You  know  that  is  not  what  I  mean,  Doctor.  I 
mean  Elise  absorbs  me,  and  I  don't  care  about  any- 
body else  at  present.  And  there's  something  practi- 
cal connected  with  this  subject,"  she  added,  seeing 
the  Doctor  about  to  leave  the  room.  "  Elise  will 
arrive  this  evening  at " — consulting  the  letter  again — 
"at  half-past  nine  ;  can  you  arrange  to  meet  her?" 

"  Yes, yes;  count  on  me  to  serve  you — and  Elise," 
lie  replied,  mischievously.  "  By  the  way,  is  she 
French  or  German?" 

Lily  shook  her  head,  and,  without  waiting  for  her 
to  speak,  he  said,  "  Why  don't  they  preserve  English 
forms  and  call  her  plain  Eliza?" 

"  Because  that  is  not  her  name,  dear." 

"  Are  you  prepared  to  avouch  in  the  presence  of 
this  assembled  witness,  Mrs.  Healey,  that  on  the 
christening  roll  the  name  stands  Elise  Archer  ?  I'll 
venture  a  penny  that  all  this  Frenchifying  is  an 
after-thought,  conjured  out  of  the  teeming  brains  of 
young  misses  at  boarding-school.  How  I  hate  affec- 
tations !  "  he  exclaimed,  vehemently. 

"  Well,  even  if  it  should  be  so,  dear,  "  Mrs.  Healey 
said,  soothingly,  "you  will  forgive  that  little  piece  of 
vanity  in  your  old  pet,  will  you  not?  She  is  so 
nearly  perfect  that  a  little  blemish  will  only  be  an 
acceptable  proof  that  she  comes  from  the  same  fallen 


THE  LETTER.  13 

angel-stock  as  the  rest  of  us.  She  is  our  charming 
friend,  there  is  no  gainsaying  that ;  and  don't  forget 
to  be  at  the  depot  promptly  at  half-past  nine." 

The  day  had  been  cold  for  October,  and,  as  the 
curtains  of  evening  shut  out  the  sun's  last  ray,  the 
wind  whistling  through  the  chimney  attracted  Mrs. 
Healey's  attention  to  the  fire  of  bright  pine-knots 
burning  low  upon  the  hearth. 

She  drew  a  chair  before  it,  reopened  her  letter,  and 
read  it  once  more  by  the  blazing  light. 

And  so  her  chosen  friend  was  coming  to  her  own 
home — this  snug  little  home,  that  she  had  often  tried 
to  picture  to  her  in  letters.  It  was  too  much  joy — she 
hardly  knew  how  to  contain  it  all ;  in  the  excess  of 
her  transport  and  desire  to  do  everything  and  have 
everything  in  perfect  order  about  her  little  household, 
she  could  do  nothing — only  sit  there  in  the  fading 
twilight  and  review  the  old  scenes  during  the  years 
of  her  happy  authority  in  her  brother's  family,  when 
Elise  was  one  of  the  children  that  occupied  her  mind 
and  heart. 

The  vivacity  that  was  always  triumphant ;  the 
pitiful  remorse  when  condemned  by  conscience  for 
misdoing;  the  pleading  sweetness  of  her  voice  when 
she  cried,  "Please  forgive  me,  Lil;  indeed  I  didn't 
mean  to  hurt  your  feelings  ! "  if  in  her  impetuosity 
she  spoke  with  the  least  sharpness ;  her  winning, 
caressing  fondness  during  all  those  years  of  her 
blindness ;  the  meek  acquiescence  which  this  mis- 
fortune developed  in  her,  and  the  gentler  patience 
which  was  the  very  breath  of  her  life  during  those 

days  at  M Springs  when  Death  stood  waiting  for 

his  victim — all  swept  like  a  panorama  across  her  vision. 

Oh,  that  happy  summer! — was  there  ever  such 
another  ?  That  sanctified  spot  where  she  was  set  the 
lesson  of  love,  and  her  heart  at  last  acknowledged 
that  she  could  learn  it  from  only  that  master;  the 
adventure  at  the  oriole's  nest,  when  the  master  came 
and  claimed  the  poor  fluttering  heart  that  had  been 
sadly  fretting  and  pining  in  a  self-imposed  imprison- 


14  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

ment;  the  betrothal,  and  the  wedding  at  Mrs.  Gray's, 
her  brother's  wife  and  Elise's  aunt — no  shadows 
darkened  the  bright  picture,  and  the  flitting  spirits 
thronged  around  her  and  filled  her  soul  with  the  soft 
dreamy  languor  of  a  forgotten  bliss. 

And  that  was  the  last  she  had  seen  of  Elise.  Nine 
years  had  folded  away  their  draperies  in  peaceful 
silence — nine  happy  years  of  wedlock.  Would  Elise 
think  her  old  and  faded  ?  Would  she  be  as  "  devoted  " 
as  ever  to  her  Lil? 

And  Elise,  the  bright  young  girl  of  seventeen, 
fragile,  willowy,  delicate,  must  now  be — with  light 
let  in  to  those  long-darkened  eyes,  and  with  the 
matured  development  of  body  and  mind  which  -she 
learned  from  a  constant  correspondence — Elise  must 
be  all  that  heart  could  wish,  both  to  look  at  and  to 
love.  And  she  was  coming !  Oh,  the  magic  of  those 
words !  The  kindly  engine  was  fast  lessening  the 
distance  between  the  long-parted  friends.  In  Mrs. 
Healey's  mood,  everything  that  contributed  to  bring 
about  this  desirable  result  became  an  object  of  spon- 
taneous gratitude. 

Would  she  be  changed  ?  In  some  respects  she  knew 
she  must  be  ;  for  with  her  restored  sight,  there  came 
an  eager  awakening  to  all  that  was  beautiful  in  nature 
and  art,  and  a  rapturous  plunging  into  all  the  accom- 
plishments of  the  modern  belle.  She  had  written  of 
her  course  in  the  School  of  Design,  and  subsequent 
progress  under  private  masters  in  drawing  and  paint- 
ing— of  her  instructions  in  the  Kensington  School  in 
finished  embroidery ;  and  had,  indeed,  sent  Lily  dainty 
specimens  of  her  perfected  workmanship. 

"  And  so,"  Mrs.  Healey  mused,  "she  is  no  doubt  a 
young  lady  '  of  the  period,'  with  all  the  isms  and 
fantasies — overlaid  with  bric-a-brac,  aesthetics,  and 
Kensington  stitches.  Ah  me  !  shall  I  ever  be  able  to 
find  my  Elise?"  Then  she  thought,  despairingly, 
"  Will  she  find  me  out  of  the  period  ?  I  think  mine 
has  only  been  a  dog-trot  in  this  progressive  age,  while 


THE  LETTER.  15 

she  has  been  on  a  full-blootled  racer.  Well,  she  must 
teach  me.  Ah,  it  will  be  glorious  !  " 

And  Mrs.  Healey  rose,  satisfied  with  her  specula- 
tions and  her  conclusion,  whispering  to  herself,  "  How 
sweet  it  is  to  reverse  the  process  of  learning  and 
teaching — even  at  thirty-four  !  " 

Now  as  she  began  calmly  to  view  the  situation,  she 
knew  that  all  was  in  readiness  for  her  guest's  arrival, 
for,  this  was  Friday,  and  the  whole  house  had  been  put 
to  rights  ;  the  guest-room  was  not  only  swept  and 
garnished,  but  scented  with  the  breath  of  sweet 
flowers,  that  curiosity  mingled  with  a  zeal  for  pic- 
turesque effects  had  led  her  to  place  in  some  new 
vases  that  very  morning. 

"  Dear,  precious  Elise  !  "  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
rang  to  order  a  supper  for  her  friend;  "poor  or- 
phaned one,  you  shall  never  know  the  want  of  a 
mother  while  Lily  Healey  breathes  the  breath  of 
life.  My  precious  child  !  " 

She  stood  motionless  for  a  moment  with  a  far-away 
look  in  her  soft  gray  eyes,  and  then,  with  a  subdued 
rapture,  exclaimed  : 

"  Yes,  you  will  remain  !  " 


THE  OPAL  QUEEN, 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  PEEP  AT  BRENTVILLE. 

"  QUICK  !  Lily,  quick  !  "  cried  Elise,  standing  at 
the  window,  and  gazing  into  the  street. 

Lily,  who  was  just  vanishing  through  the  door, 
turned  to  answer  the  summons  ;  but  the  Doctor,  being 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  ejaculator, 
sprang  to  her  side  with  the  subdued  alacrity  of  a 
veteran  of  forty,  and  exclaimed,  when  he  saw  the 
direction  of  her  eyes : 

"  Why,  that's  our  Adonis! — posing  for  your  special 
benefit,  Elise,  I  doubt  not.  What's  the  fellow  doing?" 
he  added,  regarding  him  a  little  more  narrowly,  and 
then,  as  he  spied  his  glass,  exclaiming,  "All,  yes! 
He  is  in  a  cometic  state  this  evening — possibly  cos- 
metic, eh,  Lil  ?  I  declare !  if  he  keeps  that  rigid, 
statuesque  pose  much  longer,  I  shall  begin  to  think 
he  is  comatose." 

"Quite  up  in  aesthetics,  you  see,  Elise !"  chimed 
in  Lily,  now  grouped  with  the  others  in  the  bay-win- 
dow. 

Lily  did  not  know  Elise's  predilection  for  aesthetics, 
and,  being  herself  only  slightly  tinged,  felt  at  liberty 
to  get  what  fun  out  of  it  she  could. 

"It's  a  handsome  bit  of  humanity,  anyway,"  said 
Elise,  turning  now,  as  she  saw  the  young  man  slowly 
recover  his  walking  posture,  and  with  easy  self-pos- 
session saunter  down  the  street. 

"Got your  matrimonial  cap  ready,  Elise?"  inquired 
the  Doctor.  "  Set  it,  if  you  have ;  but  I  warn  you 
that  lie  won't  deign  to  look  at  it  unless  it 'is  high- 
toned:  it  must  be  of  neutral  tint,  gray  softly  shading 


A  PEEP  AT  BRENTVILLE.  17 

into — well — I  don't  know  exactly  what — pale,  rich, 
limpid — goose-breath  ! — I  guess  that's  it — and  lined 
with  old  gold  of  course  !  " 

The  girls  laughed,  and  he  added,  "  Something 
amazingly  like  that,  anyhow,  isn't  it,  dear  ?  " 

Lily,  thus  invited  to  supplement  her  husband's 
ignorance  of  his  theme,  checked  her  laughter. 

"  That  will  do  for  a  simile,  dear.  But  don't,  pray, 
talk  about  setting  hymeneal  caps  till  we  have  set  our 
heads  together  for  a  little  space.  Why,  we  have  not 
seen  each  other  at  all  yet." 

"  Talked  from  ten  till  three,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  to 
my  certain  knowledge — long  enough,  I  should  say, 
to  catch  a  slight  glimpse,  unless  you  talked  in  the 
dark;  and  if  you  did  that,  you  had  the  mental  vision 
to  scan  each  other's  souls,  with  time  enough  to  ex- 
amine every  square  inch  of  your  bodies  outside  and 
in." 

"  Oh,  Doctor ! "  they  protested. 

"  It's  a  fact ;  I  have  dissected  larger 

"  Horrible  !     For  shame  !  "  they  cried  in  concert. 

The  Doctor  began  a  hasty  retreat  from  the  impend- 
ing assault-and-battery  gleaming  in  the  eyes  of  the 
fair  but  irate  Philistines,  running  at  him  with  their 
mighty  weapons  of  warfare;  but  just  as  they  were 
close  upon  him,  he  turned  suddenly  and  squared 
himself  for  the  attack — they  recoiled  as  if  shot. 

"  Why  don't  you.  come  on?"  he  cried.     "  Quite  a 
strong  posse  of  you  !  "     And  then,  catching  sight  of 
arms  bared  to  the  elbow,  of  the  delicate,  aesthetic 
type — "  What  a  magnificent  stand  of  arms!"  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  tone  of  mock  surprise  and  admiration ; 
"4  humeri, 
4  ulnse, 
4  radii, 
32  carpals, 
20  metacarpals, 
56  phalanges, 
appear  to  my  astonished  vision,.     Prodigious!" 

-'  You  forget  to  curve  your  phalanges,"  he  called 


18  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

out,  as  they,  having  plucked  up  courage,  started  to 
renew  the  attack. 

u  I'll  come  back  and  let  you  practice  some  day,"  he 
observed  blandly,  and  pretended  to  make  a  frightened 
exit  to  escape  the  damage  of  their  mimic  warfare. 

The  young  man  thus  introduced  to  Miss  Archer's 
notice  was  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Stilz- — a  young  married 
lady  of  the  village — who  had  stopped  to  visit  her 
before  making  his  fourth  tour  abroad. 

At  the  precise  moment  when  he  was  sighted  by 
the  window-gazers,  he  was  standing,  looking  through 
an  opera-glass  into  the  space  just  above  the  horizon, 
judging  from  the  altitude  of  his  glass,  which  was 
poised  a  trifle  too  high  for  earth-vistas. 

He  was  of  rather  striking  physique,  on  account  of 
broad,  square  shoulders  set  in  a  frame  proportion  ably 
heavier  in  its  upper  part,  and  of  picturesque  n£glig£ 
costume,  which  hung  about  him  with  an  easy  grace 
that  defied  most  drapers'  arts  and  measurements — for 
only  a  choice  few  had  yet  been  instructed  in  the  con- 
trasts and  correspondencies  and  curves  with  sufficient 
mathematical  accuracy  to  fashion  such  aesthetic  dra- 
peries. 

Although  visiting  his  cousin,  he  boarded  at  the 
hotel,  where,  without  intrusion  or  questioning,  lie 
could  have  his  valet  and  the  comforts  and  luxuries 
that  belonged  to  his  estate  as  a  private  gentleman  of 
means,  who  understood  to  perfection  the  high  art, 
the  fine  art,  of  living. 

He  had  been  in  town  just  two  weeks,  and  had  set 
it  by  the  ears  the  day  after  his  arrival.  The  young 
ladies  who  were  eligible  were  in  a  craze  of  generous 
and  ingenious  rivalry  for  his  favors. 

Little  Miss  Tete  was  sure  she  had  just  the  one 
thing  needful  to  attract  the  lion,  in  her  limp,  petite 
figure — sucli  a  dainty  bit  for  a  capricious,  refined, 
high-toned  appetite. 

Miss  St.  John  prided  herself  on  her  Greek  profile 
and  bust ;  while  Miss  Stemm  knew  that  her  willowy 
grace  would  make  all  his  thoughts  run  to  verse,  and 


A  PEEP  AT  BEENTVILLE.  19 

if  of  the  silent,  "blank"  kind,  so  much  the  better; 
for  then  she  could  do  all  the  chatting. 

Violet  Love's  complexion,  with  its  creamy  tint 
blushing  into  the  luscious  hue  of  the  peach,  never 
failed  to  enchant  the  most  indifferent  and  bind  them 
as  captives  to  her  train. 

Virginia  Smart  expected  much  from  her  naivete 
and  sparkling  humor  ;  and  Gabrielle  Bunce  was  not 
only  a  blonde  belle,  but  an  heiress  who  had  been  pre- 
sented at  court. 

He  seemed  to  have  money  in  abundance  and  spent 
it  lavishly  upon  his  pleasures  and  the  girls.  When 
Mrs.  Stilz  was  questioned'as  to  his  finances,  she  re- 
plied in  ambiguous  phrases,  or  gave  mysterious  hints 
of  a  large  patrimony  received  only  two  years  ago,  and 
left  the  young  man  and  time  to  settle,  or  clear,  or 
cloud  the  mystery.  But  this  much  was  assured:  he 
had  "enough  for  any  man." 

Lily  rehearsed  this  on  dit  to  Elise,  and  wound  up 
by  saying : 

"  He  puts  on  airs  I  think,  but  is  never  offensive, 
and  is,  I  must  say  profoundly  polite  and  agreeable." 

Elise  found  the  subject  of  sufficient  interest  to  ask 
several  questions. 

"  Does  he  consider  himself  an  apostle  of  the  Beau- 
tiful, Lily?" 

"  I  think  he  does,  «Elise." 

"Does  he  believe  that  Nature  gives  us  the  true  in- 
timations of  true  beauty  and  just  principles  in  Art?  " 

"  No  doubt  he  does,  if  that  is  what  a  genuine 
aesthete  ought  to  belie-ve  ;  he  goes  the  whole  figure," 
Lilian  replied  laughing. 

"  If  lie  burns  with  a  desire  to  convert  others,  that 
shows  a  certain  greatness  of  mind — I  do  wonder  if  he 
belongs  to  the  most  pronounced  type,  and  believes 
that  the  pursuit  of  the  Beautiful  regenerates  the 
soul,"  she  continued  meditatively. 

"  I  hope  not,"  Lilian  declared  with  a  severe  earnest- 
ness. 

"  I  certainly  do  not,  Lil,  so  dismiss  your  fears, 


20  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

please.     But  you  will  grant  that  it  is  a  necessary 
means  of  improvement  in  society." 

"  I  grant  that  it  occupies  the  restless  activity  of 
some  people  to  some  ends  of  decoration,  but  that  it 
will  ever  do  for  anybody's  sole  nourishment  I  can 
never  believe,  Elise,"  Lilian  replied  with  emphasis. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  Elise  said  absently.  "  But 
what  is  his  solution  of  the  mystery  of  life  ? — the 
strife  of  necessity  against  the  will,  like  Sohlegel's, 
or " 

"  Indeed,  Elise,  you  will  have  to  make  your  own 
soundings  in  those  deep  waters,"  Lilian  answered 
smiling. 

"  Well,  how  does  he  get  on  in  the  world,  anyhow  ? 
— do  you  think,"  she  said  archly,  "he  manages  to  get 
all  his  humors  out  as  he  goes  along,  Lil?  " 

"  What  a  saucy  girl  you  are,  Elise,  to  give  me  such 
a  sly  thrust !  Don't  be  so  impatient  for  the  study* 
of  our  Adonis  ;  for  I  promise  you  that  you  shall 
find  out  all  about  him  for  yourself.  I  shall  invite 
him  to  call,  and  he  will  surely  be  here  on  your  recep- 
tion evening,  if  not  before." 

Elise  thought  with  some  secret  satisfaction,  that 
it  would  be  a  little  stimulating  to  exercise  her  charms 
in  the  field  where  such  imposing  rivals  had  already 
a  fine  start  in  the  game.  She  had  not  had  that  kind 
of  excitement  in  her  social  life.  Travelling  and  study- 
ing so  much  of  her  time,  the  company  was  limited  to 
a  few,  or  swelled  to  the  host  of  an  audience  of  which 
she  formed  not  an  inconspicuous  but  a  fractional 
part ;  and  when  in  the  exceptional  periods  of  social 
gayety  she  had  been  surrounded  by  her  peers  among 
women,  the  tide  of  applause  and  favorable  verdict 
had  set  in  such  a  strong  current  towards  her,  without 
a  thought  of  hers  in  the  matter — by  a  kind  of  irre- 
pressible surging  of  the  male  part  of  humanity,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  driven  on  to  their  fate — that 
she  had  never  stopped  to  question  whence  it  came  nor 
whither  it  went.  She  accepted  the  offerings  laid 
upon  her  shrine,  with  an  artless  composure  that  be- 


A  PEEP  AT  BUENTVILLE.  21 

wilclered  the  conceited  and  daunted  the  daring ;  a 
frank  unreserve  and  direct  simplicity  that  confounded 
the  adventurous  and  baffled  the  intriguing ;  and  a 
pretty  grace  and  unaffected  sweetness  that  disarmed 
criticism  and  conquered  all  hearts. 

Possessed  of  the  ore-magnet  that  attracted  all 
filings,  she  had  also  the  purity  which  instantly  re- 
pelled all  baseness. 

She  did  not  acknowledge  or  recognize  any  feeling 
of  rivalry  in  this  new  field,  in  herself.  She  was  only 
wondering  how,  under  the  circumstances,  her  own 
personal  charms  would  be  rated,  and  felt  a  curiosity 
never  before  aroused  in  her  bosom,  to  discover  if  she 
would  prove  a  match  for  this  incorrigible,  much 
sought,  much  coveted  Adonis. 

"  Let  us  get  our  work,  Elise,  and  have  a  long  talk 
of  old  times  to  begin  the  '  season '  with  ;  after  that  I 
shall  be  willing  to  deliver  you  up  to  the  voracious 
appetites  of  the  outside  world." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  cried  Elise,  "  will  they  eat  my  hymn- 
book  too,  like  the  cannibals  of  Timbuctoo?" 

"They  will  monopolize  you,  I  foresee,  and  so  I 
don't  mean  to  let  them  in  until  I  can  make  up  my 
mind  to  be  contented  with  a  fragment  of  you  now 
and  then.  We  have  a  very  choice  circle  here,  Elise. 
I  am  sure  you.  will  be  pleased  with  the  society.  For 
one  thing  pronouncedly  distingue,  we  have  The  Mon- 
boddo  School,  you  know." 

Elise  dropped  her  work,  and  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"  You  must  have  heard  of  the  new  school  of  design 
in  literature,  Elise  ?  Why,  there  was.  a  great  talk  in 
the  papers  about  it." 

"Oh!  about  a  year  ago?  Yes,  I  remember  some- 
thing about  it.  Professor  came  from  London,  did  he 
not?  brought  unexceptionable  credentials  from  men 
in  high  standing,  etc.,  etc.  ?  Oh,  yes  !  I  remember 
it  all  now;  but  there  wasn't  any  excitement  in 
the  city,  only  a  little  evanescent  whirr  as  it  passed 
through." 

"  Well,  Professor   Monboddo  settled  here,  and  has 


22  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

attracted  about  him  a  pupilage  of  sixty  as  fine  young 
men  as  ever  you  saw.  This  in  turn  has  brought  a 
good  many  young  lady  visitors  into  the  village,  and 
some  men  of  culture  drop  in  occasionally,  out  of  curi- 
osity. That  was  one  thing  that  attracted  Otto  Dres- 
son,  the  gentleman  we  saw  sighting  the  comet." 

"  All ! "  said  Elise.    "  Did  he  join  the  class  ?  " 

"  No  ;  upon  my  word,  I  believe  he  is  too  lazy,  for 
there  is  a  deal  of  hard  work  in  it,  the  students  say ; 
and  then  he  is  opinionated  and  cesthetic  " — she  pro- 
nounced this  word  with  a  laugh  and  a  sly  glance  at 
Elise. 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  mind  your  ridicule  one  bit.  Lil.  I 
rather  like  it — and  to  tell  the  truth,  that  part  quite 
predisposes  me  towards  our  street  hero." 

"Well,  I  must  not  prejudice  you;  he  is  clever 
enough,  and  a  finished  gentleman." 

"  The  Professor  himself  is  quite  an  original  study," 
she  continued,  "and  succeeds  in  exciting  an  enthusi- 
asm and  devotion  among  his  pupils  second  to  no 
master  since  the  time  of  Socrates.  He  is  simple, 
calm,  direct  in  his  speech  and  manner,  and  of  so  un- 
tarnished an  integrity  that  it  comes  out  in  rays  all 
over  him,  and  you  absorb  it  while  with  him,  like  a 
vapor  or  an  electricity  !  " 

"  Say  what  you  may,  Lily,  it  is  just  that  fine  feel- 
ing that  I  have  been  telling  you  about  that  makes 
the  finished  gentleman,  and  puts  society  upon  its 
highest  plane  of  refinement.  Carlyle  well  expresses 
it  when  he  says  that  it  is  bringing  the  individual  up 
to  his  best  level  that  makes  refined  society." 

"  I  agree  with  you  perfectly  there,  and  so  does  the 
Professor,  only  he  thinks  the  foundation  should  be 
truth  and. love  instead  of  art.  But  as  I  was  saying, 
—to  go  on  with  the  current  history — he  requires 
attendance  upon  his  course  for  three  terms  of  three 
months  each:  after  that  it  is  voluntary.  He  encour- 
ages the  Greek  dress — it  was  adopted  in  fact  from  his 
suggestion,  taken  up  with  a  perfect  furore — but  he 
does  not  make  it  obligatory." 


A  PEEP  A  T  BRENTVILLE.  23 

"  Do  they  wear  the  Greek  costume  ?  "  exclaimed 
Elise  in  a  tumult  of  delight. 

"  Oui,  ma  che're!  behold  our  classic  antiques!" 

"  Why,  I  am  in  the  seventh,  heaven,"  cried  Elise, 
rapturously.  "  And  have  I  lived  to  see  the  day  the 
blessed  Evangel  of  art  has 

"No,  no;  Professor  Monboddo  wouldn't  hear  a 
word  about  its  being  art's  doings ;  it's  all  Truth  with 
him." 

"  Well,  they  are  sisters,  Lil — not  consanguineous 
perhaps — in  the  same  family  maybe — :step-sisters  ? — 
adopted  ? — I  haven't  worked  that  out  yet,"  she  said 
with  dubious  meditation.  "  But,"  she  continued  with 
eargerness,  "  there  is  one  thing  that  I  have  worked  out, 
or  rather  a  flash  of  conviction  has  just  shot  through 
my  brain — I'm  going  to  adopt  the  Greek  costume, 
Lil." 

"  The  Monboddoes  will  be  charmed  to  have  such 
an.  advocate,  Elise." 

"  You  see  I  am  already  an  all-over-dyed-in-the- 
wool  Jaegerite,  and " 

"A  what!"   Lily  interrupted. 

"Why,  you  know  I  dress  entirely  in  woolen  gar- 
ments, cap-a-pie,"  she  added,  indicating  with  a  wave 
motion  of  the  arm  the  length  of  her  figure,  "and  this 
and  this  and  this,"  touching  each  article  of  dress  even 
to  the  filmy  handkerchief  "  is  pilfered  from  the  sheep 
and  from  the  camel,  and  woven.  The  sheep's  robe 
despoiled  and  fashioned  for  me." 

"  And  you  don't  look  a  bit  sheepish  about  it  either," 
Lily  slyly  interjected. 

"  Lily,"  she  continued  without  noticing  the  inter- 
ruption, "  why,  haven't  you  heard  of  Dr.  Jaeger,  the 
great  inventor  and  advocate  of  the  sanitary  normal 
clothing  for  man  ?  He  is  a  German,  a  scientist  and  a 
physician.  He  spent  years  in  the  investigation  of 
this  subject,  and  at  last  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
his  theory,  adopted  the  dress  of  woolen  clothing  and 
introduced  it  into  his  family  with  the  best  results." 

"  Oh  !  yes,  I  have  heard  something  about  it — it's  a 


24  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

kind  of  mania  with  him,  don't  you  think?  Stock- 
ings with  toes,  and  night  dresses  with  caps,  and  all 
sorts  of  disfigurations  of  our  established  costumes  and 
conventional  modes  of  dress — what's  the  good  of  it 
all?" 

"  Health,  Lily,  God's  best  gift  to  man.  If  we  were 
dressed  in  woolen  from  our  births,  we  would  be  as 
little  subject  to  disease  as  the  animals  are." 

"  That  remains  to  be  proved,"  and  she  mentally 
thought,  ''Dear  me  !  here's  another  ism.''' 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  what  splendid  health  the 
fishermen  have?  Clad  in  their  woolen  garb,  they 
endure  sunshine  and  storm  without  risk  of  colds, 
such  a  good  conductor  of  moisture  and  bad  conductor 
of  heat  is  the  wool.  And  look  at  me,  too,  Lil.  I 
am  a  living  example  of  the  virtues  of  the  system. 
Ever  since  I  emancipated  myself  in  Stuttgart  and 
donned  the  Jaeger  costume,  I  have  been  in  splendid 
health.  I  like  the  camel's  hair  the  best ;  and  posi- 
tively, Lil,  when  I  feel  its  indescribable  texture  next 
to  my  skin,  it  seems  to  be  a  part  of  my  muscular 
integument,  so  I  am  literally  the  lady  that  sits  in  the 
wool." 

"  Well,  Elise,  I  shall  not  throw  cold  water  on  this 
pet  vagary  of  yours,  for  your  clothes  are  exquisite, 
3rour  health  is  perfect,  and  so  I  shall  let  well  enough 
alone ;  mayhap  I  may^even  join  you  in  the  innovation 
— only  I  am  afraid  it  is  dreadfully  expensive,"  she 
said  ruefully. 

"  But  how  charming  for  the  Greek  draping,"  said 
Elise,  who  had  not  lost  thought  of  her  sudden  im- 
pulse. "  I  shall  get  some  models  at  once  and  set  an 
artiste  to  work  on  my  dresses." 

"  Very  well,  Elise,  but  listen  to  my  programme, 
please,  and  tell  me  how  you  like  it.  First  the  6lite 
will  call  upon  you ;  then  there  will  be  parties  made 
for  you.  Then  I  wish  to  wind  up  with  a  grand  fete 
—*.  Greek  festival !  " 

*  Charming  ! "  cried  Elise,  "all  of  us  in  Greek  cos- 


A  PEEP  A  T  liRENTVILLE.  25 

tume  ?  Then  I  will  write  to  Worth  immediately  for 
mine — but  first  I  must  choose  my  character.." 

"  Yes.  Make  haste  slowly,  dear.  I  want  it  to  be 
a  success,  and  there's  a  good  deal  to  study  up — but 
Channing  will  help  me,"  she  said  meditatively. 

"  Such  a  paragon  village !  "  exclaimed  Elise. 
"  Almost  ideal !  Why,  the  girls  in  W-  —  would  just 
go  wild.  One  pre-Raphaelite  and — how  many  Mon- 
boddoes,  Lil  ?  " 

"I  think  Channing  said  sixty  altogether,"  replied 
Lily. 

"  One  pre-Raphaelite  and  sixty — post-Greeks?" 

Lily  laughed.  "  It  doesn't  sound  quite  right;  you 
haven't  reached  the  uttermost  title  yet,  Elise  ;  rack 
your  brain  again." 

"  Well,  Posto-classi co-Greek o  !  No?  You  are  fas- 
tidious, Mrs.  Healey.  I  ghall  make  but  one  more 
attempt  to  please  your  critical  taste.  Post-Socra- 
tiqnes  !  There  you  have  it." 

"  Why,"  laughed  Lil)*,  "you  are  getting  further 
and  further  off!  There  wouldn't  be  a  young  lady 
left  in  the  village  if  sixty  healthy  youths  costumed  a 
la  Socrates  were  let  loose  upon  us.  My  dear,  I  sup- 
pose he  wasn't  a  bit  more  stylish  in  his  dress  than 
they  say  Greeley  was  with  his  imperishable  white  hat 
and  blue  cotton  umbrella  and  slouchy  coat.  And 
yon  must  own  that  our  Monboddoes  are  up  to  the 
highest  models  of  classic  art  in  their  dress." 

"  I  haven't  seen  them,  yon  know,  but  I  will  take 
your  word  for  it.  But  I  am  not  up  to  it  yet,  Lil, 
that's  the  point." 

Lily  looked  surprised  that  one  with  such  decided 
artistic  tendencies  should  look  askance,  or  with  the 
least  disfavor  upon  the  Greek  dress. 

"Oh,  I  admire  it  vastly  of  course,  Lil,  that  goes 
without  saying.  But  what  does  it  typify?  Now  the 
costume  we  uphold  has  a  language.  The  shortened 

-i-  O  O 

breeches  mean  removal  of  close  contact  with  the  dust 
of  earth,  the  overlying  dSbrix  gathered  here  and  there 
that  one  must  rub  more  or  less  against,  but  for  this 


26  TIIR  OPAL  QUEEN. 

abbreviation.     You    see   the   symbol    in    that? — the 
withdrawal  from  low  associations  in  social  life. 

"The  buckled  slippers  or  pumps  and  knee-buckles 
illustrate  the  girding  of  oneself  for  the  conflict  with 
all  forces  arrayed  against  art.  Then,  with  the  right 
choice  of  colors  in  kerchief,  necktie,  etc.,  and  by 
blending  them  in  such  a  manner  in  the  apparel  that 
you  feel  the  charm  and  the  force  of  harmonious 
negatives,  le  tout  ensemble  is  full  of  the  symbolic,  and 
permeated  with  the  mystic.  And  if  there  is  anything 
that  I  am  devoted  to  as  a  basis  for  art,  it  is  the  com- 
bination of  wisdom  and  mystery,"  she  exclaimed  with 
ardor. 

"  Why,  you've  got  away  up  in  the  metaphysics  of 
it,  Elise  !  The  atmosphere  is  a  little  too  rare  for  me, 
and  you'll  grow  thin  on  it.  Better  come  down  from 
the  clouds  while  you  are  J^ere  with  me,  dear,  and  re- 
establish the  old  fellow-feeling,  my  pet,"  Lilian  said 
fondly. 

"  Why !  this  cultivates  the  feeling,  Lily.  You 
don't  understand.  It  is  just  because  you  do  '  feel ' 
things  all  through  and  through  you  that  you  become 
so  dreadfully  in  earnest  about  aesthetics:  it  comes 
from  the  Greek  word  meaning  '  I  feel,'  and  the 
thrill  and  the  transport  fill  you  with  a  delicious 
music.  And  after  your  artistic  perceptions  and 
tastes  are  highly  cultivated,  you  can  grade  unerringly 
the  rank  of  objects  in  the  scale  of  beauty  by  this 
nerve-meter  test — the  corresponding  intensitj^  of 
nerve-vibrations  that  are  set  quivering  in  an  imper- 
ceptible, but  conscious  dance." 

"  Are  you  quite  given  up  to  it,  Elise  ?  "  Lil}r  said 
in  mock  despair  (for  she  was  now  the  practical 
wife  and  housekeeper),  "  this  sky-soaring  and  star- 
sweeping?" 

"I  can  descend  from  heaven  to  earth  in  no  time, 
Lil — or  next  to  none — and  sweep  a  room  for  you 
this  minute,  if  necessary  !  "  And  she  threw  herself 
upon  a  hassock  at  Lily's  feet,  and  leaning  upon  her 
lap,  said,  looking  tenderly  into  her  face. 


A  PEEP  AT  imENTVILLE.  27 

"Don't  be  discouraged,  Lil,  there's  nothing  so  very 
bad  in  it.  I  ;un  only  a  student  in  this  science  of  the 
beautiful,  and  love  to  philosophize  and  speculate. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  real  good  in  it,  Lily.  Shall 
we  study  it  together?" 

"  We'll  see  about  it,  dear.  J>ut  we  must  have  a 
play-time  first,  Elise.  There's  a  whole  batch  of  fun 
to  be  kneaded  out  while  you  are  here.  Doctor  and  I 
are  growing  quite  prosaic,  and  you  must  stir  us  up 
into  a  jingle  of  some  kind,  metrical  or  unmetrical,  it 
matters  not;  but,  for  sweet  pity's  sake,  don't  have 
any  nerves  in  it!  Let  the  nerves  stay  quietly  at  home 
in  their  "own  tiny  little  batteries,  and*  just  answer 
when  we  press  the  knob !  that  will  be  their  best 
service." 

"'They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait'' 
laughed  Elise.  "Very  well,  Lily;  here's  a  whole 
bundle  of  nerves  at  your  service,  '  differentiated  ' 
into  a  female  form  known  in  the  species  and  among  its 
relations  as — "  and  she  dropped  a  profound  courtesy, 
"your  humble  servant,  Elise  Archer." 

"Complaisant  as  ever!"  said  Lily,  kissing  the 
satin  cheek. 


28  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    TABLEAU. 

"  A  maid  so  lovely  that  to  see, 
Her  smile  is  to  know  Italy, 
Her  hair  was  like  a  coronet 
Upon  her  Grecian  forehead  set, 
Where  one  gem  glistened  sunnily, 
Like  Venice  when  first  seen  at  sea." 

T.  B.  Aldrich. 

IN  some  respects  Elise  and  Lily  had  changed  places. 
Elise,  while  she  had  lost  none  of  her  pliant  sweetness, 
had  a  gracious  dignity  worked  in  by  aesthetics  that 
was  wanting  in  her  younger  days  ;  which  trait,  Lily, 
by  the  force  of  circumstances  in  early  life,  had  been 
compelled  to  cultivate  and  had  acquired  in  excess. 
But  when  there  were  no  more  children  to  manage 
and  find  in  her  their  pattern  of  propriety,  in  the  free- 
dom of  her  new  life  with  Dr.  Healey  she  had  an  op- 
posite side  of  her  nature  developed,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  his  sunny,  contagious  mirthful  ness. 

Elise  had  brought  a  Meissonier  gem  for  Lily,  and 
one  morning,  in  the  absence  of  the  Doctor,  the  t\\<> 
were  seized  with  a  desire  to  locate  it.  With  the  im- 
pulsiveness of  youthful  confidence  in  a  compliant 
strength  good /or  small  emergencies,  they  agreed  to 
take  the  matter  in  hand  themselves  and  not  wait  the 
Doctor's  opportunity. 

"It  may  stand  here  for  a  month,  if  we  wait, 
and  you  know  we  have  no  convenient  artisans  within 
call  here,  as  you  have  in  the  cities.  With  Bertha's 
aid  I  think  we  can  manage  the  affair  nicely,"  ex- 
plained Mrs.  Healey. 

It  was  not  to  be  placed  very  high,  and  a  circular 
stand  for  plants  that  stood  on  the  veranda  would 
make  the  altitude  easilv  accessible. 


THE  TABLEAU.  29 

Elise  assured  Mrs.  Healey  that  she  had  an  unerring 
instinct  for  soft  spots  in  walls  and  the  skill  of  a  smith 
in  wielding  the  hammer,  and  declared,  moreover,  that 
she  was  possessed  with  a  frantic  longing  to  climb  to 
that  particular  pinnacle  and  "view  the  landscape 
o'er."  Mrs.  Healey  was  at  length  persuaded.  Elise 
mounted  readily,  and  began  a  brisk  tapping  with  her 
hammer  here  and  there  upon  the  wall,  found  the  stud- 
ding, and  with  a  few  vigorous  strokes  fastened  the 
nail.  Just  as  she  had  adjusted  the  wire  and  was  wait- 
ing for  Lily's  verdict  as  to  whether  the  picture  hung 
straight,  the  bell  rang.  It  was  a  remote  sound,  only 
discernible  by  ears  accustomed  to  it. 

Mrs.  Healey  had  sent  for  the  Professor  and  Mr. 
Earle  for  consultation  on  the  subject  of  her  Greek 
Festival;  and  perceiving  through  the  corner  of  the 
window  a  gentleman's  figure,  she  glanced  at  Elise  and 
meditated  a  coup  d'etat.  She  had  informed  the  Earle 
household  that  Elise  was  coming,  but  had  not  sent 
word  of  her  arrival,  neither  had  she  hinted  it  in  the 
note  requesting  Mr.  Earle  to  escort  the  Professor  to 
her  house.  She  was  desirous  of  bringing  her  two 
young  friends  together  in  some  informal  way  which 
should  prevent  embarrassment  to  Mr.  Earle';  for  this 
young  gentleman  combined  with  solid  worth — intel- 
lectual force  and  great  acquirements — a  certain  re- 
straint in  the  presence  of  ladies  that  easily  grew  into 
stiffness,  unless  the  surrounding  conditions  were  un- 
characterized  by  conventionalism  or  superficiality. 
She  had  often  wondered  at  this  peculiarity  in  him. 
He  had  a  reserve  power  that  she  had  never  exhausted, 
but  she  was  at  the  same  time  conscious  that  it  was 
not  always  available  to  others.  Alone  with  herself 
he  would  be  bright,  communicative,  even  confidential 
upon  occasion,  talking  with  a  gay  instruct! veness upon 
all  subjects  that  never  degenerated  into  twaddle. 
But  in  the  midst  of  such  easy  discourse  she  had 
seen  him  grow  as  passive  and  indifferent,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  incoming  beauty  or  chatty,  fascinating 
young  lady,  as  if  he  could  not  recognize,  or  had  no 


30  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

susceptibility  to,  her  charms — nay  indeed,  sometimes 
as  frigid  as  if  he  had  been  caught  in  a  sudden  polar 
wave.  She  had  tried  to  account  for  this  metamor- 
phosis, and  thought  she  saw  a  cause  in  incessant  study 
unrelieved  by  amusement,  combined  with  youth  and 
natural  sensitiveness.  Lack  of  knowledge  or  con- 
sciousness of  developed  strength  she  knew  it  could 
not  be  ;  for  she  considered  him  an  unusually  rounded 
and  developed  character  for  his  years,  and  she  could 
never  quite  reconcile  his  full,  robust  manhood  with 
this  seeming  weakness  and  apparent  contradiction  of 
it.  This  shy  reserve,  mingled  with  a  lofty  politeness 
that  mocked  the  idea  of  embarrassment,  would  come 
over  him  instantaneously,  and  never  be  entirely  dis- 
pelled in  the  presence  of  any  fair  young  woman  with 
whom  she  had  yet  seen  him. 

She  recognized  the  fact  that  her  ruse  might  be  a 
slight  disadvantage  to  Elise  ;  but  counted  upon  her 
natural  tact  to  master  the  situation  and  reconcile  dis- 
cordances, and  argued  that  on  account  of  the  hap- 
hazard character  of  the  introduction,  Mr.  Earle  would 
be  at  his  best,  and  would  get  a  start  in  the  acquaint- 
ance which  would  be  likely  to  push  him  on  success- 
fully in  the  race. 

For  these  reasons  she  had  not  apprised  him  of 
Elise's  arrival,  and  now  as  she  stood  on  the  rustic 
pedestal,  her  long  white  cashmere  robe  falling  down 
in  folds  that  might  evoke  the  ad  miration  of  a  sculptor, 
— its  cascading  lace  enveloping  her  in  a  dainty  airy 
foam  from  throat  to  tiny  slipper,  her  half  raised  ana 
in  the  long  flowing  angel-sleeve  that  bared  it  to  the 
elbow,  and  the  graceful  unconsciousness  of  her  dig- 
nified pose — her  eye  took  in  the  artistic  completeness 
of  the  picture,  and  she  quickly  seized  it  as  the 
strategic  basis  of  her  plot. 

"Stand  quite  still,  Elise  dear,"  she  said  upon  hear- 
ing the  bell.  "  I  am  going  to  have  your  picture  taken 
just  as  you  are,"  and  left  the  room. 

Elise,  who  was  herself  fond  of  photography,  sup- 
posed that  Mrs.  Ilealey  had  gone  for  her  instrument, 


THE  TABLEAU.  31 

and  amused  herself  with  the  thought  of  playing  a 
statue.  Siie  practiced  one  or  two  expressions  of 
countenance,  but  did  not  change  the  approved  posi- 
tion. She  heard  an  unusual  movement  across  the 
hall,  and  then  Mrs.  Healey  opened  the  door  saying: 

"Don't  change  !  they  are  coming  to  take  it,  Miss 
Archer,"  and  ushered  in  Professor  Monboddo  and 
Mr.  Channing  Earle. 

At  Elise's  first  glance,  a  shade  of  annoyance  passed 
over  her  face  at  the  ruse,  but  she  made  a  pretty 
obeisance,  and  said,  "I  shake  hands  when  I'm  on 
earth,"  and  made  a  motion  of  descent. 

"  That  is  just  where  she  belongs,  gentlemen," 
laughed  Lily,  "up  in  the  clouds." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  assist  so  fair  a  divinity  out  of 
cloudland  into  the  land  of  realities,"  remarked  the 
Professor,  gallantly  advancing  to  her  side,  and  prof- 
fering the  assistance  ot  his  hand  and  arm  in  alighting. 

"No!  No!"  exclaimed  Lily,  springing  forward 
and  detaining  him.  "She  cannot  come  down  until  she 
makes  her  peace  with  Mr.  Earle." 

Elise  blushed  like  a  convicted  criminal ;  but  Mr. 
Earle  struck  by  this  precipitous  charge  in  an  unknown 
tongue,  and  recognizing  its  unfairness,  grew  chival- 
rous, and  quickly  covered  her  confusion,  remarking  : 

"But,  Mrs.  Healey,  begging  your  pardon,  I  object 
to  the  ground  upon  which  my  opponent  stands.  Her 
high  plane  forbids  even  the  consideration  of  terms  of 
peace.  If  you  insist  upon  it,  I  shall  lose  my  cause. 
If  we  are  to  meet  as  adversaries,  let  it  be  on  a  com- 
mon level,  I  beg,  where  we  can  discuss  pros  and  cons 
and  faces,  as  well  as  peccadilloes,  without  an  opera 
glass."  Then,  with  an  easy  self-possession  that  more 
than  justified  Mrs.  Healey  for  her  coup  d'etat,  he  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  the  fair  culprit,  saying: 

"Pray,  what  is  your  transgression,  Miss  Archer? 
Come  down  and  settle  it,  will  you  not?  I'm  not  an 
implacable  monster  in  Rhadamanthine  gear." 

"If  the  price  of  my  release  is  peccavi,  I  fear  I 
ought  to  stay,"  she  said  laughing,  but  put  one  fair 


;{-J  THE  OPAL 

liaiul  in  that  of  each  gentleman,  and  descended  the 
steps  to  the  music  of  Lily's  chant, 

"See  the  conquering  hero  conies  !  " 

"  You  have  acquitted  yourself  with  credit,  my  dear, 
in  this  picture,  which  I  shall  name,  The  Descent  of  the 
Sibyl.  Oh  !  that  Otto  had  been  here  !  "  she  cried 
with  mock  enthusiasm,  and  then  deliberately  captured 
the  Professor,  and  bore  him  off  to  the  library  to  dis- 
cuss plans  for  the  Festival. 

"  Too  bad,  Mr.  Earle,  to  enroll  me  as  a  foe  at  the 
very  beginning  of  our  acquaintance,"  declared  Elise, 
the  rich  blood  glowing  in  her  cheeks — "isn't  she  ag- 
gravating? "  and  she  turned  to  him  with  such  a  look 
of  amused  distress  that  he  said,  laughing, 

"  That  depends,  Miss  Archer.  But  if  we  are  to  be 
foes,  let  us  be  honest  ones.  Pray,  how  have  yon 
offended  me?  I  am  anxious  to  be  propitiated,  I 
assure  .you." 

She  hesitated,  and  he  added  : 

"  I  won't  press  it.  Yes,  she  is  aggravating,  if  her 
little  plot  has  caused  you  embarrassment ;  but  allow 
me  to  say  that  you  were  perfect  mistress  of  the  mis- 
chance." 

"  May  I  tell  you  some  other  time?"  she  asked,  with 
nervous  sweetness,  "  and  you  will  not  lay  it  up  as 
some  terrible  thing?  Then,"  extending  her  hand, 
"I  am  your  good  friend,  Mr.  Earle." 

At  this  very  little  act,  impulsively  done,  simple  as 
a  child's  and  as  natural,  Mr.  Earle  drew  back  into 
the  reflective  shell  of  whose  existence  Elise  could 
have  had  no  suspicion  from  his  frank  gallantry  up  to 
this  moment. 

Me  took  the  hand  mechanically  and  expressed 
thanks  for  the  honor,  tlnen  inquired  gravely  how  long 
she  had  been  in  the  village.  Elise  was  as  sensitive  as 
a  mimosa  ;  she  felt  the  change  instantly,  answered  him 
absently,  for  she  was^con  founded  by  this  precipitous 
descent  from  the  temperate  to  the  frigid  zone — but 
quickly  rallied  and  gave  an  amusing  account  of  her 
journey  and  her  first  view  of  the  pre-Raphaelite  of 


THE  TABLEAU.  33 

the  village,  which  was  intermingled  with  short  ques- 
tions and  polite  but  encouraging  remarks  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Earle. 

"  I  don't  take  any  stock  in  him,"  he  said,  abruptly. 
'•  Perhaps  he  is  no  more  following  an  ism  than  we 
are,"  he  continued,  glancing  at  his  robe;  "but  by 
just  so  much  as  the  Good  is  superior  to  the  Beauti- 
ful I  rank  our  views  above  his." 

Elise  had  touched  upon  her  esthetic  views  in  the 
'captivating  style  all  her  own,  and  naturally  waited 
now  for  a  fuller  exposition  of  the  sentiments  of  her 
gnest. 

He  perceived  the  drift  of  her  thought. 

"  You  would  call  me  a  bore  as  well  as  a  heretic," 
he  said,  laughing,  u  if  I  should  wheel  my  platoons  into 
line  for  that  charge,  and,  as  this  is  my  first  appearance 
to  Miss  Archer,  I  may  be  pardoned  the  wish  to 
escape  deserving  the  titles." 

lie  had  recovered  his  balance,  and  with  it  his  buoy- 
ancy and  fluent  tongue. 

Elise  inquired  archlv,  "  Shall  we  postpone  this,  too, 
Mr.  Earle?" 

"  By  all  means,"  he  replied.  "  I  am  now  in  the  de- 
structive, controversial  age  of  life  when  one  lets  old 
maxims  die  an  easy  death.  Never  put  off  until  to- 
morrow what  you  can  do  to-day,  is  productive  of 
many  an  indigestion  and  night  vigil.  We  Monbod- 
does,  Miss  Archer,  believe  in  thorough,  not  rash  work. 
Pull  out  the  underpinning  of  every  rotten  fabric,  dig 
deep  for  the  true  foundation,  strike  sturdy  blows 
while  you  wield  the  hummer — yes,  all  this  ;  but  with 
a  tentative  purpose  that  looks  ahead  grandly,  and  for 
the  time  when  the  creative  spirit  of  Truth  shall  im- 
press and  permeate  the  whole  structure." 

And  he  paused  with  an  inecstatic,  devastating  con- 
sciousness sweeping  through  and  through  him,  that  he 
was  a  goose  !  He  knew  that  while  these  glit- 
tering generalities  had  a  breadth  and  significance  to 
him  as  representative  truths,  germs  of  great  possibili- 
ties, they  were  as  far  from  Miss  Archer's  comprehen- 


34  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

sion  as  the  sundered  poles.  He  mistook  her  some- 
what; but  while  she  did  not  fathom  the  depth  of  his 
meaning,  she  understood  human  nature,  and  had  a 
woman's  tact — better  sometimes  than  knowledge — 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  change  a  subject  upon  which 
she  had  no  thoughts,  and  into  which  according  to  her 
.surmise — which  .was  wrong — he  would  be  likely  to 
sink  so  deep  she  could  not  extricate  him. 

She  dropped  the  flower  that  she  had  plucked  from 
her  belt  and  had  been  absently  studying  during  this 
burst  of  enthusiasm,  and  in  the  diversion  produced 
by  the  new  direction  given  to  his  thoughts,  she  said 
playfully : 

"  Well,  there  is  one  thing  I  don't  mean  to  put  off 
much  longer." 

He  looked  at  her  inquiringly,  for  her  voice  still 
lingered  in  a  kind  of  cesural  pause. 

"And  that  is,"  she  continued,  "  going  to  see  that 
blessed  nonogenarian  they  tell  me  you  have  at  your 
house.  Is  she  really  ninety-three  years  of.  age  ? 
What  a  marvel  of  preservation  she  must  be  !  Will 
she  see  company?  Can  she  talk  much?"  and  for 
the  first  time  in  her  interrogatories,  Elise  paused  for 
a  reply. 

Mr.  Earle  was  relieved  and  mentally  thankful  for 
the  change.  Not  so  much  for  fear  of  himself,  for  he 
knew  that  he  could  explain  so  clearly  that  she  would 
understand;  but  he  knew  equally  that  this  was  not 
the  time  nor  the  place  for  a  disquisition,  and  feared 
that  he  had  even  now  by  a  false  move  forestalled  the 
favorable  judgment  of  this  bewildering  creature,  who, 
though  he  would  not  have  been  willing  to  confess  it, 
aroused  in  him  a  new  class  of  emotions,  and  stimu- 
lated a  desire  for  their  repetition — emotions  sweet  but 
vague,  and  so  illusory  that  they  rose  and  fell  with  the 
light  of  her  eye.  His  thoughts  could  not  have  been 
invited  to  a  more  inspiring  theme. 

"  That  blessed  gran  dam  ,"  he  replied,  with  a  min- 
gling of  thankful  alacrity  and  pathetic  reverence  in  his 
tone,  "  is  one  of  my  idols,  tKat  I  wear  right  here." 


THE  TABLEAU.  35 

His  hand  was  near  his  heart,  and  if  his  manner  had 
been  less  serious,  Elise  would  have  suspected  a  hidden 
miniature. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  he  added,  "  1  honor  her  only  on 
this  side  idolatry  ;  as  Ben  Jonsoii  said  of  Shakspeare. 
I  have  grown  up  under  her,  you  know,"  he  ex- 
plained, "and  she  has  impressed  her  personality  so 
strongly  upon  me  that  sometimes  1  surprise  myself 
thinking  her  thoughts  and  acting  her  ways.  The 
little  woman  lias  a  strong  hold  on  me — more  than  a 
life-lease  I  am  sure.  She  stands  between  the  points 
of  a  century,  Miss  Archer,  just  think  of  that! — talks 
of  the  time  when  the  British  impressed  her  husband 
into  their  service  in  the  war  of  1812.  By  Dox!  but 
it  paralyzes  the  assumed  importance  of  youth  to  try 
to  comprehend  such  a  life — to  confront  such  an  accu- 
mulation of  years ! " 

He  understood  Elise's  little  surprised  laugh,  and 
hastened  to  explain. 

"  Now  that  very  exclamation  which  excites  your 
smile  illustrates  my  aforetime  speecli  about  dear  old 
Gran — that's  what  I  call  her,"  he  said,  apologetically, 
"  it's  my  pet  name  from  babyhood  that  I  shall  never 
outgrow — Gran  was  opposed  to  my  using  any  sort  of 
exclamation,  even  Zounds  or  By  George,  or  Dickens, 
or  any  of  the  so-called  harmless  ejaculations.  Well, 
I  compromised"  with  her  on  Dox,  having  explained  to 
her  satisfaction  that  it  was  the  meaning  or  name  of 
nothing  under  the  sun,  and  served  as  a  vent  for  ex- 
citement which,  if  repressed,  might  burst  out  in  some 
less  commendable  form,  perhaps  a  flagrant  violation 
of  etiquette.  It  wasn't  so  much  of  etiquette  that 
Gran  was  thinking,  though,  as  morals.  I  said  to 
her, '  Dux  means  a  leader,  and  of  course  you  don't  wish 
me  to  acknowledge  any  leadership,  or  call  upon  any 
visible  entity  or  nonentity,  so  I'll  make  it  Dox*  and 
speak  it  strong,  and  the  steam  will  all  escape  through 
that  safety-valve.'  Gran  shook  her  head  dubiously 
and  chuckled  low,  but  she  has  countenanced  me  in  it 


36  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

ever  since,  at  least  by  her  profound  silence  on  the 
subject." 

Mrs.  Healey  entered  with  -the  Professor,  and  Mr. 
Earle  rose  to  join  him  in  leaving. 

"  Have  you  arranged  the  complicated  affair,  and 
brought  order  out  of  chaos  so  soon  ?  "  said  Elise  to 
the  Professor. 

"The  Greek  movements  and  draperies  are  still 
models  of  symmetrical  order,  Miss  Archer,"  he  said, 
kindly.  "Time  passes  swiftly  to  the  young,  and — 
looking  at  his  watch,  "  we  have  tarried  one  good 
hour,  which  is  not  to  say — "  and  he  turned  with  an 
easy  grace  to  Mrs.  Healey,  "that  we  would  not  will- 
ingly make  it  two.  But  each  duty  must  have  a  frag- 
ment of  attention  and  I  must  bid  you  a  happy  good- 
inorning." 

"You  will  come  soon  again?"  Mrs.  Healey  said. 
"But,  Channing,  why  need  you  go  now  ?" 

"  Miss  Archer  and  myself  have  still  some  unfinished 
business  postponed  to  future  meetings,  and  1  promise 
myself  a  renewal  of  this  visit — and  perhaps  soon,  if 
you  will  kindly  permit  me  to  take  Miss  Archer  to- 
morrow evening  to  pay  her  respects  to  Gran,  who 
receives  visitors  between  six  and  eight." 

"  We  will  both  go,  Channing,  that's  just  the  plan. 
Ask  your  mother  to  call  to-morrow,  and  we  will  go 
around  in  the  evening.  You  old  folks,"  she  said 
laughing,  "can  talk  together,  and  Mrs.  Earle  and 
myself  will  have  some  matters  to  discuss  that  will  take 
up  nearly  the  whole  time." 

To  the  surprise  and  chagrin  of  Mr.  Earle,  when  he 
was  fairly  on  his  way  down  street,  he  discovered  the 
rose  that  he  had  unconsciously  raised,  all  wilting  in 
the  unrelaxed  grasp  of  his  fingers. 


"  GRAN."  37 


CHAPTER  IV. 


"Years  and  sorrow  had  only  worn  the  noble  texture  of  her  heing 
into  greater  fineness,  the  color  and  tissue  still  all  complete." — 
T.  Carlyle, 

THE  thought  of  that  purloined  flower  which  he 
could  not  return  without  insult,  or  keep  without 
hypocrisy,  sufficed  to  impart  that  tinge  of  dignified 
reserve  to  Mr.  Eaiie's  manner  that  was  Mrs.  Henley's 
bete  noire,  when  he  next  met  Miss  Archer,  and  ac- 
companied the  ladies  to  his  home.  It  indicated  an 
admiring  interest  in  its  owner,  he  thought — at  least 
that  was  legitimate  inference — and  laid  him  open  to 
the  charge  of  being  a  flirt,  or  a  lady's-man,  or  a 
chivalrous  knight — offices  which  he  had  never  as- 
sumed or  aspired  to.  He  could  not  but  recognize 
the  fact  that  Miss  Archer's  vanity  (if  she  had  any, 
and  that  he  took  for  the  natural  inheritance  of  a 
beautiful  woman)  would  attribute  almost  every  rea- 
son but  accident  for  the  abstraction  of  her  flower. 

But  in  the  serene  presence  of  Grandma  Earle  his 
restraint  disappeared  like  the  snowflake  in  the  sun. 

There  was  in  Mrs.  Earle  an  habitually  tranquil 
superiority  of  manner,  caused  by  the  accumulation  of 
years  and  ripened  wisdom,  that  would  have  rebuked 
familiar  address  by  the  outside  world.  But  her 
favorite  grandson  had  inaugurated  the  title  "Gran" 
in  the  village,  and  it  Avas  lovingly  adopted  b}"  all, 
who  were  glad  of  this  opportunity  of  combining  their 
affection  with  their  reverence,  and  of  escaping  the 
Scylla  and  Charybdis  whirlpool  always  swirling 
between  the  "  Young  Mrs."  and  the  "•  Old  Mrs."  of 
a  partnership  household. 


38  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

She  was  a  pretty,  quaint,  faded  picture,  in  her  high 
straight-backed  chair,  on  this  her  reception-evening, 
as  the  ladies  entered  to  pay  their  respects. 

She  had  adopted  the  plain  style  of  dress  worn  by 
the  Quakers,  in  early  life,  and  had  never  changed  it. 
A  petite  figure  etbe realized  by  ;ige  was  robed  in  a 
drab  costume  and  white  kerchief,  with  a  pure  white 
lace  cap.  She  wore  no  glasses,  having  her  "second 
sight,"  and  her  eyes  were  black,  keen,  and  even  bril- 
liant. Her  features  were  regular,  and  her  face  "  the 
very  sweetest  old  one  that  eyes  ever  looked  upon," 
Elise  told  Channing  afterwards.  Her  language  was 
choice,  with  the  best  pronunciation.  No  peculiarities 
of  diction,  no  provincialisms,  modern  slang,  or  col- 
loquialisms marred  its  high  tone  of  refined  elegance. 
She  used  her  hands  and  particularly  her  arms  in 
gesturing  as  she  talked. 

Elise  drew  very  near  to  hear  every  word.  She  had 
a  vague  feeling  that  she  was  sitting  in  the  shadow  of 
the  great  pyramid,  in  the  presence  of  these  venerable 
years — of  which  she  was  quite  sure  when  the  voice 
with  its  fine,  far-away  tone  broke  upon  her  ear: — 

"  I  have  lived  in  the  administration  of  every  pres- 
ident of  the  United  States,  Miss  Archer,  beginning 
with  Washington." 

She  waited  a  moment  for  the  effect  of  this  declara- 
tion to  subside,  as  Elise  was  overawed  with  a  speech- 
less wonder. 

"  He  was  inaugurated  when  I  was  an  infant,  he 
had  two  terms  of  office,  and  then  I  was  nine  years 
old.  I  remember  very  well  the  talk  about  Adams 
for  the  next  president." 

"Why  you  must  have  been  born  in  1788,". said 
Elise,  who  had  been  silently  making  a  computation. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "and  I  was  married  at  seven- 
teen, and  have  had  eleven  children — now  all  married 
and  with  their  grandchildren,"  she  added  with  an 
inimitably  quaint  chuckle.  "  I  travel  to  see  them 
once  in  a  while  ;  but  there  is  one  who  was  in  Wis- 
consin— I  used  to  go  there — who  has  gone  to  Colo- 


."  39 

rado  ;  wasn't-  far  enough  west !  "  she  said  with  an- 
other smudge  of  laughter — "but  I  don't  go  there  !  " 

Elise  was  regarding  her  just  now  as  a  veritable 
historical  relic,  and  felt  curious  to  hear  something 
from  an  actor  in  the  tragedy  of  what  seemed  to  her 
a  mythical  war,  so  she  said  : 

"  Then  you  must  remember  the  war  of  1812?" 

"Oli,  yes;  I  had  a  part  in  that,"  she  replied.  "We 
were  in  Canada  then,  and  my  husband  was  impressed 
into  the  British  service " 

"  Your  husband  was  .drafted  into  their  service  !  " 
exclaimed  Elise,  to  whom  the  romance  of  history  be- 
came suddenly  an  astounding  fact. 

"  You  see  we  had  the  War  of  Independence" — 
Gran  believed  in  completeness  of  outline  and  pa- 
tiently began  at  the  beginning — "and  we  whipped 
the  British ;  but  they  weren't  willing  to  acknowledge 
it  altogether,  and  they  insisted  upon  the  right  of 
search  when  our  vessels  were  on  the  high  sea — they 
would  board  them  to  see  if  there  were  not  some  Brit- 
ish sailors  on  board,"  she  explained  with  the  simplic- 
ity of  great  age  that  assumes  ignorance  in  youths 
under  sixty,  "and  sometimes  they  would  make  mis- 
takes and  take  our  men  and  impress  them  into  their 
service,  and  so  our  people  determined  to  fight  them 
again.  Then  there  was  some  dispute  about  the 
boundary  line 

"  How  strange,"  said  Elise, "that  I  hear  this  from 
one  of  the  dramatis  personce,  and  not  as  a  conned 
lesson  in  history  !  I  cannot  realize  it,  it  seems  so 
many  hundred  years  ago  ;  for  one  hundred  is  just  as 
much  as  two  to  me." 

"  We  are  indeed,"  said  Channing,  "  connecting 
widely-severed  links  of  time  ;  but  with  Gran's  mem- 
ory for  a  viaduct,  I  take  many  a  run  into  those  old 
fields  which  are  all  a  wonderland  to  me,  because  of 
her  footprints." 

"  And  my  husband  ran  away,"  continued  Gran, 
who  wished  to  preserve  the  unity  of  the  narrative, 
and  whose  powers  of  concentration  were  still  in  vig- 


40  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

orous  action,  "because  he  wouldn't  fight  against  his 
country.  Yes,"  she  went  on,  reflectively,  "lie  left 
his  British  equipments  with  me,  and  took  a  boat  on 
the  lake  to  try  to  get  into  the  United  States.  I 
watched  him  until  the  boat  wasn't  larger  than  a 
sugar-trough.  I  afterwards  put  in  a  petition  for  a 
permit  to  go  through  the  lines  ;  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  trouble  about  it,  and  finally  I  had  to  present 
myself  at  court." 

"  Do  tell  me  about  it ! "  cried  Elise,  all  enthusiasm, 
and  to  Channing,  sotto  voee,  "  Oh,  isn't  she  just 
lovely!" 

Elise  had  become  exclusively  absorbed  in  Gran, 
whose  minutest  expression  she  was  carefully  watch- 
ing; and  Channing,  in  the  absence  of  talk  of  a  newer 
flavor — Gran's  history  to  him  being  an  oft-told  tale — 
fell  quite  inadvertently  into  a  study  of  the  picture 
she  presented  to  him  on  her  low  seat,  her  profile 
standing  out  with  great  clearness  in  the  softened  light. 

The  creamy,  silken  tissue  of  her  dress  rose  in  the 
back  into  a  high  stiff  collar,  whose  edge  was  beaded 
witli  pearls,  and  it  was  cut  square  in  the  corsage,  over 
which  a  pearled  illusion  lay  in  voluminous  folds.  He 
noticed  this,  because  it  struck  him  as  a  novelty  in 
style  which  narrowly  escaped  being  Elizabethan,  and 
because  it  exposed  in  full  relief  a  throat  whose  ex- 
quisite curve  from. chin  to  bust  would  have  enchanted 
a  Hogarth  or  a  Tintoretto. 

It  was  the  changeful  beauty  of  this  miraculous 
curve  that  he  was  studying  in  every  varying  attitude 
Elise  unconsciously  made,  when  she  turned  and  asked 
her  question. 

In  the  confusion  of  ideas,  for  one  vague  moment  he 
thought  it  was  the  banter  of  ridicule,  so  much  was  it 
the  echo  of  his  own  thought,  and  then  was  glad  that 
it  was  one  of  those  purposeless  questions  carrying 
with  it  its  own  affirmation  and  consent.  He  could 
answer  it  with  his  eyes  and  resume  his  contemplative 
study. 

"  I  went  up  along  flight  of  stairs,"  Gran  continued, 


"G-B^JV."  41 

"and  went  into  the  court-room.  It  was  full  of  men, 
and  I  had  to  walk  all  alone  up  to  the  bar.  There 
was  a  counter  there  just  like  a  merchant's  counter, 
and  I  didn't  dare  to  raise  my  eyes,  for  I  was  the  only 
female,  and  knew  they  were  all  looking  at  me  ;  and 
when  General  Vincent — he  was  the  presiding  officer 
of  the  military  court— read  out  the  name,  'Lydia 
Earle,'  and  asked  me  if  I  came  to  represent  that 
petitioner,  I  raised  my  eyes  and  said,  'Yes';  and 
then  I  was  so  frightened  when  he  asked  me  the 
next  question  I  couldn't  answer  a  word," — she 
looked  up  here  for  Elise's  vocal  sympathy — "but 
I  plucked  up  courage,  and  I  answered  him  correctly 
every  question  he  asked,  for  I  knew  that  if  my 
husband  was  not  engulfed  in  the  waves  he  was  far 
enough  out  of  their  reach  on  the  glorious  soil  of 
liberty!"  And  she  joined  in  the  laugh  which  the 
triumph  in  her  voice  had  raised. 

"  Considerable  altercation  took  place  between  the 
officers  of  the  board  upon  the  propriety  of  granting 
my  petition,  when  finally  another  General  stepped 
up  and  said  low  to  General  Vincent,  'Mr.  Earle 
was  a  Freemason,  General,  and  this  pass  must  be 
granted.' " 

She  joined  in  the  laugh,  with  her  musical  "smudge," 
and  said,  "  There's  been  a  great  deal  of  talk  about 
the  Freemasons,  but  I  always  venerate  the  name." 

"That  was  the  pivotal  aot  upon  which  my  destiny 
turned,"  laughed  Channing  ;  "I  much  prefer  Ameri- 
can citizenship  to  Canadian." 

"  My  husband  served  all  through  our  war,  Miss 
Elise,  to  the  close.  He  was  in  the  battle  of  Sackett's 
Harbor;  I  leaned  on  the  door-yard  fence  and  saw  the 
battle,  and  knew  that-  my  husband  was  in  the  fight." 

"But  how  did  you  get  away  from  Canada  without 
your  husband  ?"  said  Eiise. 

"I  put  my  trust  in  the  Lord,  Miss  Elise.  'Some 
trust  in  chariots  and  some  in  horses,'  but  He  furnishes 
the  chariots  and  horses  when  they  are  needed." 

"  Gran  has  a  diary  of  those  days  which  she  might 


42  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

let  you  see  some  time,  Miss  Archer;  she  keeps  up 
that  journal  practice  to  this  day,"  Charming  said 
absently. 

"Why,  can  you  write?"  said  Elise  to  her  in 
astonishment,  looking  at  the  wrinkled  hand  with 
its  attenuated  lingers. 

"  I  used  to  knit,  for  I  had  a  family  of  children, 
but  I  gave  it  up  long  ago,  for  I  am  getting  so  old 
that  I  was  afraid  it  would  stiffen  my  lingers  so 
that  I  couldn't  write" — and  here  she  bent  the 
joints  of  her  fingers  freely,  to  prove  to  Elise  that 
they  were  still  pliable.  "  If  I  couldn't  write,"  she 
said"  with  emphasis,  "  it  would  be  a  great  depriva- 
tion. There  is  no  use  in  knitting  now-a-davs, 
when  you  can  buy  stockings  so  cheap,  but  it  wasn't 
so  seventy  years  ago" — and  she  looked  up  at  Elise 
with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye,  and  laughed  her  pretty 
laugh,  for  she  was  conscious  of  the  humor  by 
which  she  seemed  to  belittle  old  Father  Time, 
whom  every  body  was  expected  to  venerate. 

"Can  you  sew,  too?"  Elise  inquired. 

"I  make  every  article  of  clothing  I  wear,"  she 
replied,  "and  I  'have  my  grave  clothes  all  ready." 

Gran  spoke  of  this  last  sad  ceremonial  with  an 
easy  naturalness  that  inspired  her  listener  to  re- 
gard it  in  the  same  light;  she  thcM-efore  felt  no 
quiver  of  pain,  only  a  feeling  of  wonder  how  she 
had  gained  her  sublime  confidence.  She  had 
looked  forward  so  long  to  the  probable  event  of 
death  that  it  had  the  significance  but  not  the 
terror  which  it  has  to  the  young.  She  had  famil- 
iarized herself  with  the  thought  of  it,  and  spoke 
of  it  as  freely  as  she  would  of  going  into  the  next 
room.  To  her  chastened  spirit,  that  had  borne 
the  burden  of  the  flesh  for  ninety-three  years, 
Death  would  be  but  the  usher  into  eternal  glory. 

"  I  have  made,"  she  said,   "  a  great  many  gar- 
ments, oh  !  enough  to  last  a  number  of  years,  and 
I  keep  them  on  hand  in  case  I  should  get  old"- 
here  she  looked  up  and  smiled — "  and  "feeble,  and 


"  GRAN."  43 

couldn't  do  it.     Nobody  will  have  to  do  any  sewing 
for  me." 

Channing  was  still  engrossed  in  the  inobtrusive 
study  of  his  fair  guest.  From  the  triumphant  curve 
which  first  attracted  him,  and  which  failed  to  reward 
his  persistent  inspection  with  the  minutest  hint  of 
angularity,  he  advanced  to  the  higher  stage  of 
physiognomy.  He  was  noting  the  air  of  superior 
breeding,  the  beautiful,  delicate  blending  of  dignity 
and  benignity,  and  the  touch  of  a  true,  rare  inde- 
pendence— when  again  lie  was  startled  with  the 
mocking  echo  of  his  thought,  as  Elise  turned  to  him 
impetuously  : — 

"  What  a  pride  she  has  in  being  independent,  the 
dear  soul ! " 

Elise  was  looking  at  her  cap,  so  fine  and  dainty — 
"  You  don't  make  your  caps?"  she  affirmed  inter- 
rogatively. 

"Oh,  yes;  I  wanted  my  grave-cap  made  in  a  par-, 
ticular   way  a   little    different    from  this,"  and  she 
instantly  removed  her  cap,  showing  the  white,  white 
silver  of  her  hair. 

The  material  was  a  very  fine,  stiff  bobbinet,  with 
a  single  border  of  rufile,  hemmed  and  very  prettily 
crimped. 

"  You  see  I  wanted  a  double  lias  border  here,"  she 
said,  showing  Elise,  "  not  hemmed  and  plaited  on  the 
sides  and  'not  on  the  top,  so  I  made  it  myself  to  be 
sure  to  have  it  right." 

"  But  the  bonnet,  Miss  Archer,  is  the  chefcCceuvre  ! '' 
said  Channing,  who  now  found  his  model  profile 
of  too  elusive  a  nature  to  pursue  his  study  with 
advantage,  and  condescended  to  assist  in  the  inven- 
tory of  Gran's  wardrobe.  "  Can  I  get  it,  Gran?  " 

She  consented,  and  he  returned  in  a  few  moments 
with  a  drab  satin,  large,  very  large,  Quaker  bonnet. 

"No  neuralgia  in  this!"  he  said,  playfully  insert- 
ing Miss  Archer's  head  into  the  deep  crown. 

"That  I  made  forty  years  ago!"  Gran  explained. 


44  THE  OPAL  (IUEEN. 

Elise  exclaimed  (with  a  sudden,  silent  accusation 
of  extravagance)  "And  during  half  that  time  I  have 
had  at  least  one  hundred  and  twenty  !  "  She  turned 
it  over  and  over  in  her  hand.  "  Why,  it  is  quite  as 
good  as  new!  I  guess  no  one  ever  sat  on  it,"  she 
added,  laughing. 

"  This  is  one  of  Gran's  earthly  treasures,  Miss 
Archer  ;  she  has  but  few ' 

"  I  suppose  you  are  another,"  laughingly  inter- 
rupted Elise. 

"  And  having  that  distinguished  claim,"  he  said, 
bowing  in  reply  to  her  supposition,  "it  would,  you 
must  know,  have  no  such  common  depository  as  a 
bandbox!  A  purified,  much-lettered,  zinc-lined  tea- 
chest  lias  been  set  apart  for  its  especial  sanctuary, 
and  so  this  stray  little  bit  of  '  illeganze  '  (turning  it 
back  and  forth  upon  his  hand  in  ironical  admiration) 
"  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  remote  past  un- 
crushed  and  undefiled  !  " 

Gran  never  contradicted  anyone;  and  when  her 
grandson  tried  to  beguile  the  time  with  a  little  play- 
ful talk,  she  listened  with  a  sweet,  silent  toleration, 
regarding  it  as  the  foam  of  the  lighter  waves  which 
would  disappear  in  deep  seas. 

She  had  never  thought  it  necessary  to  apologize 
for  her  style  of  dress,  but  she  was  willing  to  explain 
why  she  assumed  it. 

"  I  adopted  the  plain  costume,  Miss  Elise,  because 
I  was  a  minister's  wife,  and  I  ought  to  dress  plainly. 
This  covering"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  bonnet,  "is 
not  forty  years  old,  I  covered  it  last  about  ten  years 
ago.  At  one  of  our  parishes,  once  they  were  talking 
about  our  coming  among  them,  and  they  said,  k  When 
they  had  a  new  minister's  wife,  she  always  brought 
them  some  new  fashion,  and  they  didn't  know  as 
they  wanted  Sister  Earle,  she  dressed  so  plainly.' 
They  had  heard  about  me  you  see,"  she  added  with 
another  arch  look  and  pleasant  chuckle. 

"  Gran  is  one  of  those  pictorial  characters,  Miss 
Archer,  that  have  'claims  on  the  government.'  She 


"  GRAN."  45 

has  quite  a  voluminous  correspondence  with  presi- 
dents, and  secretaries  and  high  officials." 

"  Well,"  replied  Elise,  "  I  think  the  government 
and  every  private  individual  ought  to  give  her  a 
pension  for  taking  the  trouble  to  live  so  long.  I  am 
sure  I  should  want  some  recompense,"  she  said,  with 
a  little  weary  sigh — "neither  would  gold  tempt  me 
to  prolong  life,"  she  added,  after  an  instant's  pause. 

"  But  to  me,  this  picture  of  old  age  is  the  per- 
fection of  beauty,"  Channing  observed. 

•"  Yes,  this  picture,"  said  Elise,  reflectively,  and 
left  him  to  surmise  that  she  had  been  thinking  of  a 
desolate  old  age. 

"  Yes,"  said  Gran,  "  I  have  a  claim  of  seventy  dollars, 
with  the  accumulated  interest  of  many  years,  against 
the  government,  on  account  of  the  military  service 
of  my  husband  during  the  war  of  1812.  I  wrote  first 
to  the  Adjutant-General  of  this  State,  and  he  replied 
that  Congress  must  settle  that  claim ;  then  I  wrote 
to  the  President,  and  lie  replied  through  his  private 
secretary,  that  it  had  been  sent  to  the  Treasurer's 
office.  Then  the  Secretary  wrote  me  that  the  State 
must  settle  that  matter;  then  I  sent  the  Secretary's 
letter  (I  kept  a  copy  of  it  myself,"  she  remarked  with 
a  shy  playfulness)  "•  to  the  Adjutant-General.  So  it 
goes  back  and  forth  like  a  shuttle-cock.  I  told  the 
Adjutant-General  that  I  was  now  in  my  ninety-third 
year,  and  if  I  was  to  get  any  benefit  from  it,  it  must 
not  be  much  longer  delayed  !  " 

Elise,  amused  at  her  humor,  inquired  why  they 
didn't  want  to  pay  it. 

"•They  just  want  to  let  it  slip  along  until  I  am 
gone — most  all  of  the  old  ones  who  had  claims 
are  gone  now,  soon  none  will  be  left.  They  are 
making  a  new  State-house  in  Albany,  and  I  guess 
they  want  all  the  money.  That  is  the  only  reason  I 
can-think  of,"  she  said,  whimsically. 

Gran  made  the  last  remark  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
show  that  she  was  convinced  of  the  absurdity  of  it, 


4C  THE  OPAL  QUEEX. 

but  would  try  to  justify  the   ''powers  that  be  "  in 
their  mighty  stretches  after  economy. 

The  more  Elise  talked  with  this  remarkable  old 
lady, 

"The  more  the  wonder  grew 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  she  knew." 

"  A  budget  of  nearly  one  hundred  years'  gathering !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  dear,  how  did  you  preserve 
yourself  so  exquisitely?  There — I  must  say  it,"  she 
said,  with  a  little  blush  of  apology.  "  Do  you  drink 
tea  or  coffee  ?  " 

"  When  I  used  to  go  visiting  with  my  husband  they 
thought  they  must  do  something  nice  for  the  minix- 
ter's  wife,  so  they  gave  me  very  strong  te;i,  and  I  just 
made  up  my  mind  that  /  wouldn't  drink  tea  !  " 

"Cayenne  pepper  is  Gran's  favorite  beverage," 
Chan n ing  interposed,  laughing. 

"  There's  no  disease  about  me,  Miss  Archer — no 
infirmity  but  this  slight  difficulty  of  hearing;  nothing 
but  the  weakness  of  old  age."  She  turned  around, 
and  looking  Elise  fully  in  the  face,  said  earnestly  : 

"Cayenne  pepper  is  the  only  natural  stimulant 
that  is  beneficial  to  the  human  system,  Miss  Archer," 
and  laughed  with  Elise  because  slfe  knew  it  was 
funny.  "I  will  recommend  cayenne  pepper  to  every 
woman — catnip-tea,  too.<  catnip  is  good — good  for 
everything — good  for  biibies  as  well  as  for  old  age  ; 
catnip  for  the  nerves  and  cayenne  for  the  stimulant ; 
don't  forget  that,  Miss  Archer." 

They  had  a  good  laugh  at  Gran's  playful  assump- 
tion of  medical  skill,  and  Elise  declared  she  must 
commence  the  new  regime  at  once,  and  begged  Mrs. 
Ilealev,  who  just  then  entered  with  Mrs.  Earle,  to  be 
sure  to  furnish  her  with  the  desirable  article  for  her 
breakfast. 

Elise  kissed  the  dear  old  face,  and  Gran  said,  hold- 
ing her  off  and  looking  at  her  intently  : 

.  "  ^  ou  are  very  beautiful,  dear,  but  don't  forget 
that  natural  graces  adorn  the  character,  but  they 
don't  redeem  it." 


"G/M  \."  47 

"I  knew  you  would  go  into  raptures,  Elise,  over 
our  valuable  relic  of  the  past,  and  Chan's  idol,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Healey  as  they  were  walking  home. 

"I  don't  wonder  you  idolize  her,"  Elise  said  to 
Channing;  "  why,  I  should — oh!  I  feel  as  though  I 
could — eat  her  up  !  That's  shockingly  common,"  she 
laughed,  "but  I  have  said  it  now,  and  gained  my 
equilibrium." 

"  Why  don't  you  say  that  she  sinks  into  the  mar- 
row of  your  being?"  said  Lily,  who  often  encroached 
upon  the  doctor's  metaphorical  preserves  when  hunt- 
ing for  illustrations. 

"Do  you  know  she  looks  exactly  like  one  of  those 
little  nut  figures  that  we  dress  up  in  chairs?"  said 
Elise.  "  What  a  charming  antique!  How  I  would 
like  to  have  her  in  my  chimney-corner,  close  to  my 
spinning-wheel,  where  I  could  run  in  and  give  her  a 
good  hug  every  few  minutes  ! — and  then  her  voice 
sounds  so  distant,  so  high  and  strained.,  you  try  to 
key  yours  up  to  it.  But  oh  !  such  a  dear,  cheerful, 
beautiful  old  face,  and  such  an  arch  expression  when 
she  is  saying  funny  tilings  about  herself!" 

"  Yes,  she  has  a  keen  sense  of  the  humorous," 
Channing  interrupted.  "She  is  now  in  the  deep 
tranquillity  of  a  serene  old  age— nothing  jars  or 
moves  her.  And  her  vitality  is  amazing;  she  got  up 
at  six,  and  had  not  rested  all  day,  and  yet  was  talk- 
ing with  you  brightly  to-night  at  eight— that  is  her 
retiring  hour." 

"  The  mellow  beauty  of  the  dear  old  face  is  the 
quiet  work  of  a  century. 

'  Earth's  winter  flowers  are  sweeter  far 
Than  all  spring's  dewy  posies,'  " 

quoted  Elise. 

"Do  you  believe  it?  "  he  asked. 

"Don't  you?"  she  inquired  for  answer,  with  a 
little  look  of  surprise. 

"If  I  may  make  one  exception,"  he  answered, 
looking  at  her  steadily. 


48  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

This  might  be  a  delicate  compliment  to  herself, 
and  then  it  might  not  be  ;  and  as  he  made  an  awk- 
ward pause,  and  her  hand  was  in  his 'for  the  good- 
night touch,  she  said  earnestly  : 

"How  much  I  thank  3*011,  Mr.  Earle,  for  this  alto- 
gether unrivalled  evening!  It  will  be  the  ideal 
classic  of  memory,  an  Iliad  in  prose !  " 

As  soon  as  the  door  closed  upon  the  fair  enchan- 
tress, Channing  had  a  vexatious  cense  of  his  indis- 
creet admiration.  It  was  not  like  him,  he  mused  on 
his  homeward  way  ;  was  he  bewitched,  that  he  must 
imperil  truth  upon  the  quicksands  of  beauty?  And 
he  looked  with  alarm  upon  himself  that  he  could  for 
one  instant  have  degenerated  into  a  flatterer. 

It  had  besides  a  deeper  significance  than  would 
ordinarily  attach  to  it;  for  had  he  not  only  twenty- 
four  hours  ago  declared  Gran  to  be  the  chief  object 
of  his  regard?  and  now,  forsooth,  under  the  spell  of 
a  belle's  fascinations,  he  must  coolly  divide  the  honors 
of  idolship  wiih  a  comparative  stranger!  He  was 
jealous  of  this  love;  why  had  he  dishonored  it? 
Why  had  he  belittled  it  by  appearing  to  rank  with  it 
the  whim  or  fleeting  preference  of  a  day? 

Should  this  ephemeral  gust  of  feeling,  even  if  it 
did  transiently  take  him  off  his  feet  and  sweep  him 
silently  along,  be  compared  for  one  instant  with  the 
deep  and  steady  tide  of  love  that  had  been  swelling 
and  surging  for  twenty-three  years  in  his  breast?  In 
this  access  of  renewed  devotion  to  his  Gran,  he  felt 
as  though  he  must  make  instant  confession  to  her  of 
disloyalty,  and  hear  his  pardon  from  her  own  lips. 
He  had  desecrated  her  image — he  had  disparaged 
her  claims  upon  him — and,  above  all,  he  had  again 
given  Miss  Archer  cause  to  think  that  she  had  made 
a  conquest ! 

And  then  he  was  forced  to  meet  that  question 
squarely:  "Was  she  anything  more  to  him  than 
other  girls  had  been  ?  " 

With  a  nervous  thrill  of  suppressed  emotion,  he 
was  obliged  to  confess  that  no  other  being  had  so 


"  GRAN.'1'1  49 

touched,  so  moved  him — that  she  had  set  chords  vi- 
brating in  his  soul  of  whose  existence  he  had  never 
dreamed.  Then  he. said  calmly  to  himself  : 

"  If  this  be  so,  my  fine  fellow,  there  is  a  double 
reason  for  your  playing  quits  ;  for  you  have  a  career 
to  make,  and  the  possessor  of  millions  is  not  likely  to 
consider  such  trifles  when  she  wants  a  husband. 
Yes,"  he  thought  on,  "  a  career  of  five  good  stead  }r 
years  of  work,  before  1  secure  that  complement  of  my 
being  they  call  a  wife — and  during  those  five  years 
would  be  sure  to  find  her  a  superfluous  and  wordy- 
supplement." 

He  smiled  at  this  tacit,  covert  disparagement  of 
Miss  Archer's  merits,  as  an  adroit  if  accidental  be- 
ginning of  the  levelling  process  that  he  meant  to 
pursue;  felt  gratified  at  his  responsive  will-power; 
congratulated  himself  on  his  victory,  and  playfully 
gave  himself  an  approving  nod  for  putting  Gran's 
rival  so  quickly  to  flight. 

And  he  turned  the  key  on  his  resolutions,  and 
pocketed  it. 

But  there  were  others  whose  pleasure  had  to  be 
consulted  in  the  matter  of  his  proposed  course  of 
renunciation. 

His  mother  had  fallen  in  heartily  with  all  Mrs. 
Healey's  plans,  and  promised  co-operation  to  the  extent 
of  her  ability.  She  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  sign 
away  Channing's  freedom  and  free  agency  by  prom- 
ising his  unfailing  support. 

44  It  is  only  for  a  little  while,  dear,"  she  said  coax- 
ingly  to  him  ;  4' I  feared  you  might  refuse,  and  tried 
to  excuse  you  ;  told  her  you  were  head  and  ears  in 
work,  but  she  was  quite  incorrigible,  I  assure  you; 
insisted  upon  it  that  no  one  in  the  village  could  take 
your  place  as  her  counsellor  and  escort  for  Miss 
Archer,  You  know  the  Doctor  is  too  much  engaged 
to  be  counted  on  ;  so  I  told  her  at  last,  after  innumer- 
able dissents,  you  would  not  fail  them — I  would  vouch 
for  you." 

Channing  perceived  that  he  was  a  victim  of  social 


50  TlIK  OPAL 

necessities,  and  withdrew  further  opposition,  but 
reserved  to  himself  the  right  of  controlling  his  own 
feelings.  In  submitting  to  these  necessities  lie  felt 
a  secret  triumph  in  the  thought  that  no  one  had  a 
prescriptive  right  over  his  heart ;  he  promised  him- 
self the  closest  surveillance  there,  and  felt  securely 
entrenched  for  either  a  siege  or  a  bombardment. 


T11E  "SEASON"  OPENS.  •         51 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  "SEASON"  OPEXS. 

"  There  were  never  such  brown  tresses,  such  a  faultless  hand  ; 
She  ha  1  youth  and  she  had  gold,  she  had  jewels  all  untold, 
And  many  a  lover  hold  wooed  the  Lady  of  the  Land." 

T.  B. 


A  PARTY  in  the  village  was  always  a  unique  affair, 
on  account  of  the  conspicuous  absence  of  bipeds  of 
the  heavenly-stork  order.  The  Greek  costume  witii 
its  colored  tunic  of  flowing  folds  gave  to  an  assemblage 
the  fantastic  appearance  of  moving  statuary,  or  an 
antique  picture  with  contemporary  types  and  acces- 

sories.    The  anachronisms  in   dress  were  too  sflarino- 

. 
to  cause  one   to  mistake   it   for  a  veritable  scene   in 

Greece  and  gave  it  an  air  wholly  original  and  exclu- 
sive. A  few,  very  few  gentlemen  in  the  tight-legged 
trousers  and  conventional  swallo  \v-tail,  the  costume 
which  has  been  the  despair  of  the  -sculptor  for  so  man  v 
centuries,  were  sprinkled  among  them.  Elise  had  per- 
suaded most  of  the  ladies  to  adopt  the  Greek  dress  for 
the  occasion  and  the  rest  had  greatly  modified  their 
styles  for  a  better  harmony  with  it;  and  the  sump- 
tuous fabrics,  glittering  and  gorgeous,  which  decorated 
their  fair  forms,  gave  an  aspect  of  oriental  brilliance- 
to  the  scene. 

Mrs.  Earle  led  off  ia  the  evening  entertainments, 
and  very  happy  was  Elise,  whose  daily  visits  had  won 
Gran's  heart,  to  make  her  f>ntre<>  into  the  village  circle 
under  the  roof  that  sheltered  ihe  venerable  dame. 
Gran  could  not  be  persuaded  to  appear  during  the 
reception,  saying,  when  Chan  urged  it: 
"  'The  world  is  a  good  thing  to  have  —  under  your 


52  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

feet,  my  child ;  but  if  you  try  to  put  it  on  your  back 
or  in  your  pocket  it  will  make  even  a  saint  groan.'  " 

When  Elise  arrived  in  her  elegant  toilette,  Hashing 
with  her  opal  gems,  Mrs.  Earle  carried  her  in  triumph 
to  her  mother's  room,  exclaiming: 

"  See,  Grandma,  if  she  hasn't  just  stepped  out  of 
Fairy-land!" 

kw  We  thought  we  would  bring  you  some  bits  of  our 
brightness,"  Elise  said,  taking  Mrs.  Earle's  arm  and 
turning  her  towards  Gran.  "  Isn't  this  a  superbly 
dressed  figure  of  a  woman  ! — all  in  satin  and  point 
lace,  Gran  !  Doesn't  she  set  it  off  regally?" 

Mrs.  Earle  was  blessed  with  a  superabundance  of 
embonpoint,  and  upon  this  point  (or  mass  of  points) 
she  was  extremely  sensitive.  Although  the  good- 
natured  adipose  had  been  her  constant  attendant  for 
twenty  years,  still  she  looked  upon  it  in  the  light  of 
an  intruder,  pathetically  referring  to  the  time  when 
she  had  .a  form  that  was  a  form,  comparing  herself 
with  every  new  figure  of  unusual  proportions,  and  en- 
deavoring to  extract  whiffs  of  comfort  from  the  mem- 
bers of  the  family  by  exclaiming,  "Now,  look!  Chau- 
ning,  look!  Grandma,  am  I  as  large  as  she?"  in  so 
pitiful  a  tone  that  their  judgment  would  be  perforce 
strained  through  mercy's  sieve. 

A  neighbor  said  of  her  that  she  had  "a  considerable 
carriage,"  which  might  have  been  intended  for  im- 
pressive or  imposing,  if  you  did  not  know  that  the  pun- 
ster was  a  malicious  cynic. 

Hhe  wore  a  head-gear  that  was  not  large  enough 
for  a  cap,  nor  small  enough  for  a  head-dress,  of  a 
species  between  the  two.  It  had  no  strings  and  did 
not  come  far  upon  the  front  hair  ;  was  set  back  upon 
her  head,  and  extended  at  the  back  around  her  knot. 
It  was  either  black  or  white  lace  with  some  becoming 
color  to  harmonize  with  the  dress.  To-night  it  was 
white  lace  with  pink  rose-buds  mixed  with  delicate 
lavender  knots  of  clustered  velvet,  and  made  her  look 
charming. 

But  Gran's  admiration,  however  fervent,  was  mute  : 


THE  "SEASON"  OPA'.VX.  53 

her  eyes  glistened,  but  she  only  said  to  Elise  :  '  Not 
with  gold  or  pearls  or  costly  array,  but  as  becometh 
a  woman  professing  godliness,  with  good  works.  I 
think  you  have  that  adornment,  rny  child,  but  take 
care  !  take  care  !  Gran  must  sound  her  warning  note 
once  in  a  while,  when  the  World  and  the  Flesh  are 
blowing  their  trumpets  all  the  time." 

And  she  disposed  herself  for  her  peaceful  sleep. 

"  Good-night,  dear  angel,"  Elise  said  softly  on  leav- 
ing. "  The  air  is  full  of  them,  Mrs.  Earle.  I  know 
they  are  hovering  around  this  aged  saint." 

The  inhabitants  of  this  quiet  village  had  made  an- 
other innovation  upon  the  customs  of  society.  Their 
cards  of  invitation  read  from  eight  to  twelve:  this 
was  done  with  the  spontaneous  consent  of  all,  and  the 
hours  were  rarely  extended  beyond  the  announced 
limit.  "  With  even  such  slight  restrictions,"  they 
said,  "our  girls  will  be  robbed  of  their  beauty-sleep: 
but  our  seasons  are  short,  and  our  receptions  are 
separated  by  recuperating,  breathing  intervals." 

Now  the  company  was  for  the  most  part  assembled. 
On  account  of  this  voluntary  observance  of  the 
rules  of  their  established  etiquette,  the  rooms  had  not 
been  long  in  filling.  They  came  in  shoals — not  in 
straggling  ones  and  twos — and  bevies,  gay,  bright, 
airy,  chatting,  laughing.  The  presentation-scene 
was  a  drama  spectacular  in  itself,  so  full  was  it  of 
bright  pictures  of  youth  and  vivacity,  which  are  syn- 
onymous  terms  it"  youth  is  at  its  highest  level. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  Otto  Dresson  to  Elise  as 
they  were  watching  the  glittering  array,  and  adding 
bits  of  criticism  and  poetry — "  Upon  my  word,  Miss 
Archer,  I  think  I  have  found  my  Utopia;  all  it 
needed  w;is  a  Queen,  and  the  gods  have  lent  us  that 
treasure,"  he  said  with  an  unblushing  admiration 
visible  on  his  face  as  he  surveyed  her  radiant  beauty 
from  head  to  foot. 

Elise  showed  no  signs  of  pleasure  at  tins  gross  flat- 
tery. There  was  a  little  touch  of  defiance  and  injured 
nrtdesty  in  her  tone  as  she  said  : 


54  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

u  A  nursery  rhyme  long  since  forgotten  comes  to 
my  mind  just  now,  Mr.  Dresson — 

"  '  Praise  to  the  face 
Is  open  disgrace.' " 

"  Your  rebuke  is  merited,"  he  said,  with  downcast 
eyes  ;  and  then  beaming  upon  her — "  If  it  would  not 
make  you  such  a  conspicuous  figure  in  an  unusual, 
though  perhaps  effective,  tableau,  I  would  kneel  at 
your  feet  and  wait  until  I  was  shriven — suing  in 
terms  of  fiery  eloquence  for  your  distinguished  par- 
don." 

The  inimitable  audacity  of  the  contradictions  in  this 
speech,  arch  flattery  under  the  guise  of  humble  words 
in  a  lo\v,  pleading  tone,  did  not  escape  Elise;  she 
was  much  amused,  however,  and  said  gayly — for 
there  was  about  her  a  breezy  freshness  as  well  as 
radiant  light — 

'•  You  are  granted  absolution,  Mr.  Dresson  ;  rise 
from  your  metaphorical  stool  of  penance  !  Perhaps 
we  may  yet  find  some  talk  upon  which  we  can  agree. 
You  know  the  company,  Mr.  Dresson  ?" 

"  Not  perfectly,  but  with  the  scope  of  an  aesthete 
who  has  been  studying  it  for  about  four  weeks,  don't 
you  know.  My  prints,  if  new,  have  been  favorable, 
and  my  study  altogether  charming.  This  novel  fea- 
ture of  the  Greek  dress  captivated  me  at  the  start, 
and  other  interesting  accessories  have  filled  up  a' 
picture  quite  unique  and  creditable — to  the  designers. 
Not  to  say  that  there  are  not  flaws  striking  ones,  too, 
which,"  he  said  benignly,  "I  shall  lend  my  youth  to 
the  eradication  of — for  I  am  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  art,  you  know." 

lie  noticed  the  quick  look  of  intelligent  sympathy 
that  swept  over  Elise's  face,  and  quietly  decided  that 
he  had  discovered  an  assailable  spot  in  this  appar- 
ently impregnable  fortress. 

'Art  is  a  divinity  of  such  charming  mien, 

To  be  courted  it  noeils  only  to  be  seen  ; 

It  can't  be  seen  too  oft  or  become  too  familiar  to  our  face, 

If  at  first  we  endure,  we  next  worship,  then  embrace.' 


THE  "  SEASON"   OPENS.  55 

"  That  is  my  parody  on  orthodoxy." 

"  But  I  am  orthodox,"  Elise  pleaded — who  yet  clung1 
to  the  tenets  of  her  faith  with  a  pertinacity  mourn- 
ful to  see,  because  for  practical  purposes  she  was 
only  dragging  a  skeleton  by  her  side. 

"  And  I,  also,  in  your  sense,"  he  quickly  added. 
"  Soundness  of  belief,  by  all  means,  don't  you 
know;  why  should  we  take  a  rotten  carcass  of  dead 
formula} — " 

This  was  a  rather  startling  metaphor  for  the  time 
and  place,  which  Dresson  realized  by  a  scarcely  percep- 
tible shrinking  from  him  on  the  part  of  Elise  ;  but  he 
knew,  too,  that  for  his  tactics  vigorous  battle  in  the 
line  he  had  entered  upon  was  better  than  inglorious 
retreat. 

"  I  speak  against  the  effete  notions  of  the  dead 
ages,"  he  said.  "  The  orthodoxy  of  'cant,'  and  tight- 
jacket  and  screw.  The  stiff-kneed  orthodoxy  that 
can  never  walk  inside  a  theatre  or  opera,  that  would 
not  lend  its  listening  ears  to  the  beauties  of  the  drama 
or  the  opera,  or  enjoy  the  free  air  of  heaven  in  a  Sab- 
bath drive,  or  watch  the  lyric  paces  of  a  noble  steed 
fast  flying  in  the  very  poetry  of  motion  round  the 
artistic  curves  of  the  course — because  it  is  a  wicked 
race !  We  are  on  a  higher  plane  of  existence  now,  Miss 
Archer.  Those  limitations  fitted  very  well  the  nar- 
row creeds  of  their  believers,  and  perhaps  were  useful 
in  their  generation  in  the  development  of  muscle  ; 
for  it  must  be  clear  to  you,  that  in  a  new  country 
like  ours  when  the  Pilgrims  landed,  the  first  problem 
to  be  met  was  how  best  to  develop  the  resources  of 
the  country  so  as  to  establish  a  proportion  in  that  old 
maxim  :  k  Live  and  let  live.'  Art  was  unborn  ;  com- 
mercial industries  must  pave  the  way  for  successful 
art.  Narrow  creeds  made  good  diggers  of  granite 
hills  and  pine-locked  woods,  but  they  culminated 
artistically  in  the  '  Blue  Book'  and  the  Witches  !" 

Elise  laughed  at  this  iconoclastic  outburst,  and  said  : 
"•  But  here  is  something  that  is  not  a  '  dead  issue,'  but 
a  living  personification  of  truth  and  loveliness,  I  am 


56  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

sure!  Who  is  she?  She  lias  been  introduced,  I  kno\v, 
but  so  many  have  confused  my  memory " 

At  this  instant,  there  floated  by  the  draperied  nook 
into  which  Dresson  had  led  Elise  from  the  dance,  a 
petite  damsel  in  fawn-colored  satin  and  creamy  roses, 
with  a  mysterious  suggestion  of  pink  here  and  there, 
in  obscure  plaits  and  ruffling  lace  ;  having  an  oval 
face  like  a  pearl  in  its  purity  and  sweetness. 

Dresson  talked  in  a  low,  mellifluous  tone  that  de- 
spoiled language  of  its  harshness,  and  Elise  found  her- 
self losing  sight  of  the  sentiment  in  the  rich,  delicious 
languor  that  steeped  his  manhood  so  that  she  was 
impregnated  with  the  vapors. 

His  voice  was  pure  and  without  resonance,  like  a 
distant  flute,  and  yet  the  enunciation  was  so  clear  and 
distinct  that  its  message  was  artistically  complete  ; 
a  greater  volume  of  sound,  Elise  thought,  would  have 
been  superfluous  and  oppressive. 

"  Miss  Tete's  figure,"  he  said,  "  is  quite  up  to  the 
standard  of  aesthetic  perfection — slender  and  grace- 
ful, like  the  sapling,  and  costumed  with  a  plainness 
that  is  the  elegance  of  simplicity — always  some  soft 
and  limp  fabric  with  just  a  suspicion  of  train — a  single 
piece  of  jewels.  To-night  I  observed  she  had — 

"  '  A  green  tourmaline  in  a  pale  turquoise  border, 
On  her  delicate  wrist,  just  maintaining  its  hold 
By  the  slenderest  band  of  the  palest  gold.'  " 

"  And  her  face  was  like  Raphael's  'Madonna  with 
the  Goldfinch,'"  said  Elise.  "How  I  love  to  study 
faces !  " 

"  There  is  Miss  St.  John,"  he  said.  "  Her  face  and 
form  are  undeniably  fine,  you  know ;  but  when  you 
look  for  the  corresponding  investment  of  the  'splen- 
dor of  a  deepened  poetry,'  it  isn't  there,  don't  you 
know.  Quite  sad,  really  now,  when  you  look  at  it — 

"•  Miss  Love's  face  is  pretty,"  Elise  said. 

"  And  when  I  gaze  upon  that  face,"  he  said  pen- 
sively, "  I  feel  '  flooded  with  the  solemn  rapture  of  a 
sunset.'  " 


THE  "  SEASON''  OPENS.  57 

He  paused.     Elise  was  silent,  and  he  continued: 

"  There  goes  Miss  Bunce  ;  her  dress  is  unrivalled 
in  grace  of  composition  and  richness  of  tone,  but  she 
-well  she  is  simply  idiotic,  don't  you  know." 

"And  Miss  Smart?"  asked  Elise. 

"Has  unmistakable  talent,"  lie  replied,  "but  lacks 
sincerity,  is  full  of  mannerism,  and  her  dress  is  always 
marred  by  false  and  sickly  coloring; — and  my  cousin 
Marie  Stilz  falls  little  behind  in  sensational  coloring 
and  violent  contrasts — 'from  which  I  pray  daily  for 
deliverance.  Those  beastly  dresses,  Miss  Archer,  are 
like  a  horrible  nightmare  by  day  and  by  night." 

His  tone  was  calm  and  languid, giving  no  indication 
of  turbid  pools  of  passion,  and  in  fact  they  were  non- 
existent. He  had  learned  to  express  himself  strongly 
without  imperilling  the  serenity  of  his  being. 

But  there  could  only  be  sketchy  glimpses  of  this 
ravishing  "art  of  dressing,"  at  a  feast,  where  the 
guest  was  at  once  the  nucleus  and  cause  of  the  shining 
array,  and  others  claimed  a  share  of  her  attention. 
Dresson  was  immensely  sought,  she  thought,  as  she 
saw  him  captured  and  led  into  her  presence  during 
the  pauses  of  the  dance  by  every  pretty  girl  in  the 
room,  and  they  were  all  pretty  in  their  furbelows  and 
fussings — and  saw  how  eagerly  they  listened  to  his 
aesthetic  criticisms  on  the  passing  show. 

"  For  the  charm  of  sweet  girlhood  hung  over  it  still, 
And  no  polar  wave  of  conventional  chill." 

She  found  him  attentive  to  a  charm,  and  so  ex- 
quisitely polite,  that,  in  spite  of  herself,  the  image  of 
a  devotee  offering  incense  upon  the  shrine  of  his 
favorite  divinity  was  constantly  recurring  to  her 
mind. 

She  confessed  that  there  was  a  magnetism  about 
him  that  she  could  scarcely  resist;  whether  owing  to 
his  superb  physique  in  its  rococo  costume  or  his  calm 
indifference  to  persons  and  their  opinions,  (a  manner 
that  had  always  a  strange  fascination  for  her),  or 
a  keen  and  subtle  perception  of  all  refinement  and 


58  THE  OPAL  QUEEN, 

beauty  which  allied  itself  so  strongly  with  her  own 
aesthetic  sense — she  could  not  tell. 

"  But  where  was  Channing?  "she  asked  herself  once 
during  the  evening.  She  had  seen  him  flitting  about 
here  and  there,  but  always  as  the  polite  host  or  the 
attentive  escort  to  some  matronly  lady. 

Charming  had  not  intended  on  this  evening,  when 
inattention  might  be  conspicuous,  to  be  wanting  in 
his  devoirs  to  Miss  Archer.  His  .position  as  host 
would  justify,  if  it  did  not  demand,  the  careful  study 
of  her  pleasure.  But  when  with  set  purpose  he  turned 
to  join  her,  and  found  her  surrounded,  or  apart  in  quiet 
tete-d-tete  and  apparently  happy,  he  resigned  his  pro- 
tectorate in  Dresson's  favor,  and  devoted  himself  to 
neglected  wall-flowers — of  which  species  there  were 
indeed  very  few  specimens  where  Superba  was  mis- 
tress of  ceremonies.  She  was  ubiquitous  with  her 
magnificent,  inspiring  presence,  cheerful,  bright  good- 
nature and  thoughtful  kindness  to  the  gay  young 
party,  when  in  the  merry  pauses  of  the  German  she 
could  catch  them  and  hold  them  long  enough  to  be 
the  recipients  of  it. 

Channing  had  not  contemplated  this  probable  item 
in  his  abnegation  of  his  own  desires,  and  was  not  pre- 
pared for  the  disrelish  of  its  flavor.  Without  positive 
ill-will,  he  had 'always  maintained  towards  Dresson  an 
attitude  of  lofty  indifference  mingled  with  a  moiety 
of  contempt,  that,  because  indefinable,  he  meant 
to  be  imperceptible;  but  he  was  not  always  success- 
ful in  concealing  it.  But  since  he  had  voluntarily 
abjured  his  own  privileges  in  this  race,  he  asked  him- 
self why  he  should  be  surprised,  or  perplexed,  or  an- 
noyed, at  the  entry  of  other  names  on  the  list;  and 
if  the  race  was  open  to  all  competitors  of  fair  and  hon- 
orable deportment,  why  should  a  secret  and  unex- 
plained antipathy  prejudice  the  cause  of  any  con- 
testant-. "  If  Dresson  can  win  her,"  he  said,  "I  must 
congratulate  him  like  a  man,  and  have  done  with  this 
miserable  feeling,  which,  I  suspect,  is  the  newly-blos- 
somed flower  of  a  seed  that  until  now  I  have  not 


THE  "SEASON"   OPENS.  59 

recognized  in  my  heart's  soil — the  bitter  seed  of  jeal- 
ousy !  —  "  and  set  himself  to  play  the  part  of  a  mag- 
nanimous hero,  but  did  not  find  it  an  agreeable  role. 

He  escorted  Elise  to  supper  as  a  gentlemanly  host 
should.  He  had  never  seen  her  so  brilliant,  so  happy, 
so  queenly,  and  he — had  never  been  so  miserable. 
He  met  all  her  light  pleasantries  and  bright  raillery 
with  awkward  gallantry  and  subdued  pauses.  He 
knew  he  was  not  himself,  and  the  deeper  this  convic- 
tion grew,  the  less  he  was  able  to  better  himself. 

"  For  a  man  who  is  two  years  beyond  his  majority," 
lie  said  to  himself,  "  this  is  babyish  pusillanimity." 
But  even  this  cutting  rebuke  failed  to  put  him  en 
rapport  with  this  iridescent  spirit  sitting  beside  him, 
whose  shimmering  lights  were  too  dazzling  for  him 
to-night. 

He  made  a  desperate  effort  when  he  saw  her  vainly 
trying  to  fasten  the  little  boutonniere  that  came  with 
her  satin-painted  menu,  to  a  tress  of  her  hair. 

"Can't  I  help  you?"  he  said  ;  and  then  instantly 
felt  the  delicate  gold  wire  change  in  his  blundering 
fingers  to  a  horrid  instrument  of  barbaric  torture,  and 
was  dumb  with  surprise  when  she  said,  giving  her 
head  a  little  shake  to  see  if  it  was  securely  lodged — 

"  Done  with  the  skill  of  a  lady's  maid,  Mr.  Earle  ; 
can't  I  engage  your  artistic  services  ?  " 

"A  pre-engage  ment  to  a  more  arbitrary  and  exact- 
ing mistress,  Miss  Archer,  \\i\\  furnish  my  excuse  for 
declining  the   honor  to  enter  into  any  new   ones — 
and  he  felt  that  he  told  her  a  truth,  and  that  under 
the  jest  lay  his  heart -all  bare. 

Ah  !  could  she  but  have  known  it  then  ! 

"Many  a  fallen  spark  is  quenched,  or  lives  only  as 
a  spark  which  could  have  been  flamed  into  a  cheerful 
light  and  flame." 

"  Books  and  things  ?  "  she  queried  playfully  inter- 
preting his  words  only  according  to  the  surface-mean- 
ing. 

He  laughed  at  her  comprehensive  suggestion — and 
was  amazed  that  he  laughed. 


60  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  Libri  et  al."  he  affirmed,  "and  that  includes  the 
height  and  depth,  length  and  breadth — solid  contents 
in  other  words — of  Monboddoism  and  a  career!" 

"lam  just  dying  for  a  career!  "she  said.  "  It  sounds 
so  grand  and  autocratic.  What  could  1  be,  I  won- 
der?" She  sat  tapping  her  pretty  foot  on  the  velvet 
moss,  and  shaded  her  eyes,  and  thought— 

"A  Florence  Nightingale  with  them  all  kissing  my 
shadow — a  doc  tress  with  a  charity-hospital  all  my 
own  ! "  and  she  raised  her  head  and  spread  wide  her 
eyes  with  a  spasm  of  delight  as  if  she  had  found  the 
coveted  wish.  She  resumed  her  thinking. 

"  Build  a  model  town,  a  Utopia  for  the  honest 
poor" — again  her  eyes  grew  big. — k' Yes,"  she  said, 
"on  the  whole,  1  think  1  like  that  the  best.  Then  I 
would -study  architecture  so  as  to  devise  the  very  best 
plans  for  sewerage  and  drainage  and  ventilage — none 
of  my  colony  should  be  swept  away  by  terrible  epi- 
demics— and  arrange  for  picturesque  effects  as  well 
as  comfortable  lodgings.  I  have  a  painter's  innate 
faculty  for  arrangement,"  she  explained,  laughing. 

She  did  not  tell  him  that  she  was  already  the 
patroness  of  a  society  of  Decorative  Art,  where  the 
children  from  nine  to  fifteen  years  of  age  could  be 
trained  in  industries  both  useful  and  pleasant. 

What  he  said  he  never  knew — but  in  his  heart 
he  gave  a  great  gasp,  as  he  thought — look  on  this 
picture  and  on  that ! — all  and  none  !  But  there  was 
a  reaction  of  noblemindedness,  and  he  said : 

"  With  one  hundredth  part  of  all  that  outlay,  you 
couldn't  make  one  man — that  must  be  here,"  lie  said 
striking  his  breast  with  unconscious,  dramatic  fervor; 
"exoteric,  it  grows  from  within  outwardly  like  the 
woody  fibre,  and  if  the  germ  is  not  there,  the  develop- 
ment of  that  particular  kind  is  impossible.  You  may 
get  a  flabby  array  of  muscles  or  even  a  consolidated 
muscular  integument  and  the  various  complex  tissues 
appertaining  to  the  outward  form,  but  the  true  life 
will  be  missing." 


T11E  "SEASON"  OPENS.  61 

"But,"  said  Elise,  archly,  "I  would  transplant  only 
those  gen n.s  into  my  Utopia — 

.  "Aii!  dreamer:  "  lie  said  with  a  perceptible  modu- 
lation of  hi.s  voice,  "'if  I  mistake  not,  you  were  born 
for  another  mission." 

He  was  looking  at  her  intently  but  vacantly,  and 
for  the  life  of  him  could  not  have  translated  his  own 
enigmatical  words  —for  he  was  crushing  down  with 
a  mighty  effort  the  thought  of  sweet,  domestic  life 
brightened  by  the  "splendor  of  the  angel-smile  that 
makes  a  paradise  in  the  face  we  love,"  and  whatever 
else  he  might  have  meant,  that — in  the  face  of  his 
prearranged  conduct — he  could  by  no  possibility  have 
even  surmised.  So  he  reasoned;  and  she — why  she 
took  it  very  simply. 

"  Something  happy  and  useful  and  artistic,  I  hope," 
she  said,  "my  seer.  Does  it  look  variegated  like  my 
opals,  or  tame  and  sweet  like  pearls?" 

How  they  flashed !  how  they  danced  on  neck  and 
hair  and  snowy  arms  ! 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  hastily,  "  both  and  all.  But 
they  are  calling  you." 

And  sure  enough,  Super  ba,  who  had  looked  every- 
where, but  in  the  deep  embrasured  window,  came  to 
the  portiere  and  called  Elise  to  receive  the  parting 
salutations  of  her  guests. 


62  Til E  OPAL  (JUEEN. 


CHAPTER  VT. 
LETTER  TO  ART  ON  OPAL. 
DEAR  AUT: 

"Changes  will  befall  and  friends  must  part, 
But  absence  only  cannot  change  the  heart; 
And  were  I  called  to  prove  the  assertion  true, 
One  proof  should  serve — a  reference  to  you." 

It  is  just  possible  that  you  may  not  accept  Cow  per 
as  a  mediator  between  us — or  his  verses,  rather,  as  a 
peace-offering  to.  your  neglected  virtues  ; — and  that 
you  think  I  assume  too  much  when  I  count  upon  the 
indivisibility  and  eternity  of  our  friendship.  It  is 
also  within  the  range  of  possibilities,  that  you  are 
saying,  at  this  very  moment,  that  this  same  compact 
(though  unwritten  and  unformulated)  implies  mutual 
obligations,  one  of  which  is  a  seemly  interest  in  the 
daily  life  of  the  bondsmen's  fraternity,  and  another, 
a  certain  activity  in  unfolding  the  part  each  one  acts 
in  this  life  drama — not  without,  also,  certain  gushes 
of  confidence,  if  not  a  steady  stream.  Do  I  worry 
you  by  even  the  suspicion  of  lukewarmness  or  resent- 
ment, because  I  have  failed  to  put  my  customary 
weekly  appearance  into  your  Diggery?  Know,  most 
beloved  of  chums  and  most  forgiving  of  friends,  that 
1  am  not  without  excuse:  my  attention  has  been  en- 
grossed, my  spare  time  monopolized  by  recreative 
pursuits.  "Superba"  declared  that  I  was  "  paling, 
and  thinning,  and  thinking  the  social  fluid  out  of  me 
into  driblets,"  so  she  served  an  injunction  upon  me 
to  set  aside  all  writing  except  what  was  positively 
necessary.  "  There's  enough  of  that,  Heaven  knows," 


LETTKR  TO  ART  ON  OPAL.  63 

she  said,  "  and  I  will  myself  apprise  Arthur  of  your 
intention  and  explain  your  silence  "  (this  when  I 
rather  emphatically  declined  to  include  you  in  this 
embargo  programme),  "  a  mother's  own  signature  will 
convince  the  most  skeptical,"  she  added  complacently, 
and — but  pardon  me,  I  will  not  reopen  the  argu- 
ment so  long  decided  against  me.  1  let  her  have  her 
way,  mindful  of  the  adage,  "  A  woman's  advice  isn't 
worth  much,  but  you'd  better  take  it." 

So  "Superba"  immediately  set  up  a  new  dynasty; 
not  that  she  in  any  wise  relinquished  the  sceptre,  but 
she  gathered  about  her  privy  counsellors  of  wisdom 
and  renown,  and  inaugurated  a  brilliant  season  of 
merry-making.  Mrs.  Healey  was  her  principal  coad- 
jutor in  this  new  departure,  having  a  young  friend 
visiting  her  for  whom  she  wished  to  do  the  honors  of 
hospitality.  And  a  famous  bout  they  made  of  it — 
dances,  teas,  kettle-drums,  fetes,  stag-parties,  dove- 
coteries,  Bohemians,  art-receptions,  musicales,  soirees, 
and  even  breakfasts  swung  us  round  in  a  circle  of 
gay ety, that  might  not  inaptly  be  called  a  maelstrom. 
Having  dared  to  enter  the  vortex,  I  was  swallowed 
up  in  no  time — I  was  much  in  request  and  there  was 
never  quite  enough  of  me  to  go  round.  I  wished  a 
hundred,  yes,  a  thousand  times,  that  Arthur  Doane 
was  here  to  piece  me  out.  And  not  for  that,  alone, 
dear  chum,  but  that  I  might  confess  to  you  how  ut- 
terly frivolous  and  unworthy  the  whole  show  seemed 
to  me. 

Illusory  I  knew  it  was  in  my  heart  of  hearts,  false, 
cheaty,  and  demoralizing;  but  why  should  I  try  to 
stem  the  popular  current  with  my  shell  of  a  boat,  or 
set  myself  up  for  a  standard  of  Pharisaical  morality, 
and  raise  the  howl  of  reform,  when  I  wasn't  so  much 
set  against  all  the  tinselry  and  whirlagigary,  as  I  was 
profoundly  indifferent?  But  now,  having  run  the 
race,  I  am  wiser.  I  have  jumped  my  last  "  Jack-in- 
the-box  "  dance  ;  henceforth  I  shall  leave  the  stage 
to  other  and  more  willing  puppets.  Do  not  imagine 
from  this  conclusion  that  I  am  soured,  disappointed, 


64  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

or  about  to  take  holy  orders.  I  expected  nothing  in 
the  beginning — never  having  had  a  drawing  towards 
the  dissipations  of  fashionable  life,  not  even  the 
smallest  fraction  of  a  "-hanker" — and  so  had  no  false 
dreams  to  burst  in  the  air  ;  and  secondly,  acids  were 
at  a  discount,  sweets  were  "  all  the  go  " — that  is  it. 
I  am  clogged  with  the  sweetmeats  in  the  market  of 
Vanity  Fair !  and  all  dealt  out  by  the  fair  hands  of 
lovely  forms  dwelling  there.  I  feel  like  the  crystal- 
lized essence  of  honey,  and  am  thirsting  for  a  good, 
acidulous  drink  ! 

"  Superba  "  was  in  her  element — planning,  devis- 
ing, conjuring  (one  almost  thought  with  a  magician's 
wand,  so  much  beauty  and  order  did  she  bring  to 
light — esthetics,  they  call  it),  now  in  a  craze  for 
antique  furniture,  now  for  keramics,  now  for  deco- 
rating, and  lastly  for  crewel-work.  She  has  run 
through  them  all,  and  is  a  devotee  of  each  and  all  to 
this  minute;  has  smartened  up  these  old  walls,  rooms 
and  halls  (corridors  we  call  them  now  having  ampli- 
fied and  extended  them  somewhat),  and  one  can 
hardly  stir  in  the  drawing-room  or  library  for  fear  of 
knocking  down  some  bric-a-brac,  or  damaging  some 
bijou,  just  finished  by  the  dear  maternal  fingers.  I 
attempt  to  read  the  paper  by  the  student-light  in  the 
library  and  it  is  as  much  as  my  life  is  worth.  "Su- 
perba" has  a  dainty  rug  of  her  own  skill,  just  before 
my  easy-chair  which  gets  all  in  a  heap,  or  caught  in 
a  leg  of  the  chair,  and  I  cannot  find  a  spot  upon  the 
art-heaped  table,  for  so  much  as  my  wallet,  to  say 
nothing  of  my  arms,  which  I  would  enjoy  resting 
there  ; — then  unless  I  move  at  just  the  right  angle, 
some  table  or  other  with  fancy-ware  and  fairy  gim- 
cracks  gets  a  tilt,  and  there's  a  smash-up!  It's  Vatican 
all  about — so  I  leave  them  in  their  royal  grandeur 
and  come  up  here  where  I  can  have  room  and  freedom. 
Ha  !  there's  nothing  like  that,  in  this  planet  of  ours  ! 
To  be  cramped,  crowded,  cornered,  how  it  rouses  the 
internal  lion !  Of  course  during  the  "  season  "  I  had 
no  such  furloughs  given  me — this  room  was  haunted 


LETTER  TO  ART  ON  OPAL.  65 

by  my  ghost  during  all  the  hours  that  I  was  not 
sleeping  or  dressing. 

Now,  however,  there  is  an  end  or  a  lull,  and  I  am 
taking  advantage  of  it.  Dear  Gran  has  been  sorely 
exercised  during  the  new  reign  and  the  revolution 
which  preceded  it ;  she  cannot  quite  understand  the 
necessity  for  changes  and  innovations,  nor  see  clearly 
why  what  has  been  goud  enough  for  her  and  her 
ancestors,  is  not  the  thing  for  her  descendants.  And 
yet  she  does  see  clearly  and  sublimely  the  sic  transit 
yloria  mundi,  written  on  all  these  passing  humors. 

"It  won't  last  long,  dear/'  she  said  to  me — more 
as  a  quietus  to  her  own  misgivings,  than  to  any 
objections  of  mine  ;  for,  as  before  subscribed,  I  was 
supremely  indifferent — "it  will  run  about  seventeen 
years,  and  then  there'll  be  something  else — or  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  perhaps." 

Dear  Gran  !  to  her  ninety-three  years,  a  quarter 
of  a  century  is  hardly  worth  mentioning — a  mere 
bagatelle. 

When  she  sat  one  day  at  the  window  and  watched 
the  elite  of  the  village  drive  up  in  their  elegant 
vehicles  with  liveried  servants,  and  they  sitting  in 
rich  draperies  like  queens  of  beauty  (as  they  were), 
Gran  turned  her  eyes  away,  and  sighing  said: 

u  Well,  they  have  their  carriages  !  " 

"  Why,  Gran !  "  I  said  (not  quite  up  to  her 
thought,  and  unwilling  to  admit  even  to  myself,  that 
my  beloved  Gran  could  harbor  envy — and  desirous, 
too,  of  correcting  what  I  thought  was  false  logic  of 
the  dear  old  purified  mind  that  is  guiltless  of  an  ism, 
and  of  eradicating  the  notion-  if  that  had  slyly  crept 
into  her — that  carriages  were  incompatible  with  good- 
ness), "  Why,  Gran,  can  they  not  have  carriages  and 
heaven  too  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  sadly.  "It's  the  symbol,  dear; 
it  stands  for  wealth  and  pomp  and  parade  and  self. 
'  How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven.' '  Solemn  as  was  this  view  of 
life,  I  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  and  catching 


66  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

up  the  wise  little  philosopher,  I  seated  her  on  my 
lap,  holding  her  in  a  fond  embrace — which  the  old 
lady's  dignity  could  stand  only  for  one  second,  even 
if  the  transgressor  was  her  grandson.  She  gently 
but  firmly  withdrew  to  her  rocking-chair, and  resumed 
her  knitting  as  tranquilly  as  if  1  had  not  burst  like 
a  volcano  upon  her. 

Yes,  here  was  this  little  Christian  anti-gig-man  ! — 
without  ever  having  read  a  line  of  Carlyle,  her  spirit- 
ual insight  coincided  with  his. 

How  it  all  came  to  me  as  I  sat  here  reflecting  upon 
her  sage  exposition  of  that  truth,  "  Griymanity" 
"  Gran,  then,  sees  it  as  Carlyle  did,"  I  thought — and 
yet,  Art,  I  will  not. conceal  from  you  that  her  utter- 
ance bears  more  weight  with  rne,  because,  she  is  a 
Christian  taught  by  the  Saviour  whose  words  they  are, 
the  Christ  whom  Carlyle  ignored  in  those  days  when 
this  expression,  gigmanity^  was  the  epitome  of  his 
convictions  on  the  falseness,  hollowness,  deceits  and 
shams  of  fashionable  society,  and  the  excuse  for  his 
anathemas  on  its  devotees. 

And  you  should  have  seen  a  few  moments  after. 
Gran's  placid,  heavenly  look,  as,  resting  her  head  on 
the  top  of  her  straight-backed  Gothic  chair,  and  with 
folded  hands  and  shut  eyes,  she  said  softly  (which  in 
her  fine  far-away  treble,  sounded  like  musical  breath- 
ings of  her  disrobed  spirit), 

"  From  low  delights  and  mortal  toys, 
I  soar  to  reach  eternal  joys." 

Carlyle  thought  he  was  ready  to  soar  at  thirty- 
nine  in  moments  of  depression,  but  he  never  counted 
upon  imyjoys— for  with  all  his  trust  in  God  as  a  wise 
Father  who  ruled  his  destiny,  he  was  not  then  much 
of  a  saint. 

There's  a  difference,  Art,  in  the  spirit  of  the  two  ; 
Gran's  is  not  so  much  denunciation  ;is  Carlyle's,  more 
of  the — "How  often  would  I  have  gathered  you  and 
ye  would  not!"  because  Gran's  conviction  is  founded 
on  principle  ;  for  the  Saviour,  whose  declaration  this 
is  (Carlyle  coined  the  word  but  the  truth  is  our  .Great 


LETTER  TO  ART  tLV  OPAL.  67 

Master's),  is  her  model  of  life  in  faith  and  practice. 
The  Devil  has  many  arrows  in  his  quiver;  and  when 
one  is  not  possessed  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  can  easily 
be  deceived  as  to  his  own  motives.  So  many  are  mis- 
understood, even  by  ourselves — as  when  tin  indiges- 
tion makes  us  crabbed  and  out-of-sorts  with  the  world, 
there  is  no  sympathy  with  even  its  harmless  frolics  ; 
and  if  we  have  a  natural  disinclination  for  society, 
how  apt  we  are  to  underrate  its  forces ;  and  if,  when 
we  do  mingle  in  it,  our  vanity  is  not  sufficiently 
ministered  to  by  attentions  and  salaams  and  little 
worshipries,  how  easy  to  renounce  it,  and  curse  it  by 
hurling  defiance  at  its  double-dealing,inconsistencies, 
and  enormities. 

But  I  must  cease  moralizing  and  divulge  the  rest 
of  the  bulletin.  Long  silence  has  not  rusted  the 
edge  of  my  prolixity,  an  art  in  which  I  take  pride  in 
excelling  when  Doane  is  the  listener.  I  babble  away 
to  you  every  thought  that  comes  uppermost,  trusting 
in  the  friendship  heretofore  mentioned,  for  the  weed- 
ing out  of  that  which  cumbereth  the  letter.  A  few 
items  of  secondary  importance  remain  to  be  com- 
municated. As  I  have  hinted  before,  you  will  antici- 
pate, perhaps,  that  they  centre  around  the  beautiful 
stranger  who  has  been  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  and 
the  magnet  of  all  hearts,  during  our  "season" — I 
refer  to — our  friend,  Mrs.  Healey's  guest. 

The  fame  of  her  beauty  and  enormous  wealth  pre- 
ceded her,  but  although  expectation  was  roused  to  a 
fabulous  pitch,  the  Opal  Queen  has  not  disappointed 
the  majority  of  the  curious. 

This  title  appears  to  have  dropped,  like  herself, 
from  the  clouds,  for  altho'  the  christening  occasion 
was  patent  to  all,  no  one  of  us  can  discover  who  was 
the  christener.  But  the  name  once  caught  was  so 
palpably  fit,  that  by  spontaneousand universal  assent 
it  was  echoed  and  re-echoed  until  set  in  its  die.  It 
came  like  a  flash  into  existence,  and  like  a  flash  may 
go  out.  Nous  verrons. 

For  the  sake  of  convenience,  she  shall  be  known 


68  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

as  Belinda  (a  name  by  which  she  has  appeared  be- 
fore in  this  correspondence) — a  name  euphonious  and 
with  an  air.  As  it  has  also  the  advantage  of  being  a 
favorite  with  both  of  us  and  standard  for  our  Dul* 
cineas,  it  will  serve  an  admirable  foil  for  the  over- 
curious  (who,  like  the  "  Marchioness,"  are  reduced 
to  key-holes  and  surreptitious  methods  of  education), 
and  prevent  any  little  awkwardness  which  might 
arise  in  case  of  unknown  and  unsuspected  contingen- 
cies. Void  mon  prudence!  Such  an  amount  of 
caution  has  not  been  portioned  out  to  me  for  many  a 
day. 

You  have  been  told  that  Belinda  is  beautiful  and 
a  millionairess,  almost  a  billionairess — for  the  present 
let  that  sufh'ce  as  to  her  personal  charms  and  means 
of  supporting  them,  while  I  sketch  her  from  other 
points  of  view.  For,  like  every  star  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude, she  has  her  phases. 

Belinda  attends  to  her  nails.  Each  nail  rises  out 
of  its  crescent  cradle  into  an  almond  shaped  tissue, 
glistening  with  ivory  and  mother-of-pearl. 

Belinda  understands  the  requirements  of  the  toilet 
to  perfection.  She  does  not  believe  in  being  recog- 
nized by  her  odor.  She  does  not  announce  her  pres- 
ence by  messengers  which  enter  the  penetralia  of  the 
olfactories,  nor  can  she  be  followed  through  a  long 
line  of  rooms  by  the  suffocating  sweetness  of  the  im- 
pinging atmosphere.  Foxes  may  be  traced  in  some 
such  way,  but  Belinda  is  not  a  fox,  and  maintains 
that  the  human  organism  should  not  be  tainted  with 
dead  odors.  Animals  carry  them  in  a  bag; — nature 
h;is  not  provided  humanity  with  such  distinctive  fur- 
nishing. If  the  human  wishes  to  imitate  the  brute, 
let  him  also  carry  his  in  something  as  close — an 
estopped  bottle. 

But  I  digress.  Belinda  is  so  delicately  scented 
that  you  catch  only  the  occasional  inspiration  of 
violet  or  wild  rose,  now  minutely  palpable,  now 
caught  as  in  a  dream,  now  vanishing  altogether. 

Belinda  does    not  perfume  herself  at  all  for  the 


LETTER  TO  AUT  ON  OPAL.  69 

public  assemblage,  where  a  sitting  audience  is  con- 
fined for  hours  in  an  ill-ventilated  room.  She  thinks 
the  air  foul  enough  without  adding  to  it  the  stale 
and  artificial  compounds  of  chemical  art,  thereby 
driving  her  nearest  neighbor  into  a.  sick  headache  or 
an  incessant  wielding  of  the  fan  (in  winter  !)  in  order 
to  blow  away  the  disease-laden  atmosphere,  and  catch 
a  little  breath  of  heaven's  pure  elixir. 

This  matter  of  fanning,  Art,  ought  to  be  regulated 
by  sumptuary  law—  it  has  often  been  a  source  of 
amusement  to  me,  and  sometimes,  I  confess,  of  vexa- 
tion. 

Mrs.  Bluster  is  hale,  hearty,  and  fifty.  She  has  an 
immense  palm-leaf  under  the  cushion,  and  as  soon  as 
she  is  comfortably  seated  (sometimes  before)  she 
makes  a  dive  for  it,  and  the  battle  begins.  To  one 
not  acquainted  with  her  tactics,  the  sole  object  of 
the  vigorous  and  wide-spreading  charges  which  she 
incessantly  keeps  up,  seems  to  be  a  bold,  vicious 
attack  upon  the  spinal  column  of  the  unsuspecting 
victim  in  the  ranks  just  in  front  of  her.  Just  here 
at  the  base  of  the  brain  where  the  fine  tissue  makes 
its  first  development  into  that  delicate,  creamy  or- 
ganism with  its  arbor  vltce  markings,  just  here,  where 
exposure  to  sudden  draughts  endangers  the  whole 
fabric  of  the  nervous  system,  just  here  the  deadly 
weapon  is  plied  with  scarcely  a  halt  or  a  break, 
during  the  two  hours'  service.  But  she  does  not 
know  ! — the  Lord  will  forgive  her— and  so  will  I. 

But  Belinda  knows.     Her   fanning  is  a  fine  art — a 

o 

hand  motion,  and  confined  to  the  small  circumfer- 
ence of  her  own  face.  When  she  wishes  to  benefit 
others,  she  extends  the  privilege  of  her  fan,  and 
courageously  endures  the  heat,  not  so  much  from  a 
spirit  of  charity  as  because  she  is  proper — all  her 
actions  are  en  regie.  She  knows  what  the  correct 
adjustments  of  society  demand  of  her — she  is  just, 
she  is  high-toned  ;  she  would  not  let  finish  in  the 
social  structure  suffer  through  lack  of  her  acqui- 
escence in  carrvino-  out  the  minutest  detail. 


70  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

Belinda  is  fond  of  contrasts  and  correspondencies 
of  tone  and  color. 

One  bright  autumn  day — a  day  when  Nature  puts 
"on  her  regalia  robes  in  the  North,  Belinda  put  on 
hers  (to  remind  herself,  she  said,  of  the  dear  up- 
country)  and  sitting  under  a  many-branched  oak, 
became  a  part  of  the  landscape.  The  cardinal  and 
gray  and  gold  of  her  draperies  vied  in  richness  and 
brilliancy  with  nature's  own  pigments.  She  was 
writing  on  a  pencil  tablet.  Her  eyes  fairly  danced 
with  delight  as  she  said : 

"Isn't  this  a  perfect  day?" — and  every  word  had  a 
soul  in  it,  as  she  breathed  it.  "I. love  to  sit  here, 
where  the  sky  is  so  blue  "  (here  she  looked  up  with  a 
face  full  of  rapture)  "and  all  nature  seems  so  sweet 
around  me,  my  foot  pressing  the  sod "  (here  my 
attention  was  directed  to  the  daintiest  of  chaussure 
in  the  way  of  many-buckled  slipper  and  carmine  hose 
in  terraces  between  the  bands),  "  and  my  lungs  drink- 
ing in  this  rich  nectar  — for  what  so  fills  the  spirit 
must  in  a  measure  nourish  this  poor  clay — is  it  not 
so?" 

I  bowed  a  quiet  assent.  "  But  I  am  disturbing  you 
— you  are  writing." 

With  the  sweetest  of  smiles  she  replied: 

"  Not  in  the  least,  I  assure  you.  I  just  thought  I 
would  scribble  a  little  with  a  pencil  to  my  friend, 
right  here  on  this  rustic  seat,  with  the  canopy  of 
clouds  overhead,  to  imprison  a  breath  of  the  freshness 
— the  aroma,"  she  said  with  emphasis,  "  of  this  de- 
licious autumn  day  on  this  sheet  of  paper.  I  am 
aware  that  a  pencil  is  not  d  la  mode  for  the  paragon 
letter,  but  my  friend  will  excuse  it,  T  know,  under 
the  circumstances,  for  the  sake  of  the  aroma,"  she 
added,  laughing.  "  Beauty  is  better  than  precision, 
and  an  easy  flow  of  utterance  in  such  a  presence" 
(and  she  looked  like  a  priestess  of  nature,  so  devout 
was  her  expression)  "  than  all  the  stilted  eloquence 
of  the  schools  !" 

Belinda  is  so  transparent  that  what  is  the  perfect 


LETTER  TO  ART  ON  OPAL.  71 

simplicity  of  nature  passes  for  the  perfect  finish  of 
art;  without  the  least  diplomacy  she  would  be 
brusque  if  she  were  not  steeped  in  conventionalism 
and  dyed  in  etiquette.  Like  the  uranium  glass  she 
is  both  iridescent  and  transparent. 

Belinda  is  a  good  etymologist,  entomologist, 
naturalist,  philologist,  physicist,  etc.  In  the  city 
where  she  has  been  for  a  time,  she  was  president  of 
the  society  for  the  introduction  of  smoke-consuming 
chimneys,  was  untiring  in  her  efforls  to  discover 
some  practical  way  of  removing  this  blot  upon  large 
manufacturing  towns — this  nuisance  to  housekeepers 
— and  had  unearthed  the  man  who  had  invented  an 
arrangement  which  she  bought  and  patented  and  set 
to  work  before  she  left. 

Oh!  Belinda!  If  you  could  only  be  as  interested 
in  the  eternal  verities,  and  have  as  supreme  a  sense 
of  the  eternal  fitness  of  things — what  a  superb 
woman  you  would  be! 

Belinda  is  all  sweetness,  always  in  equipoise— I 
would  like  to  see  her  once  fairly  aroused.  She  is 
literarv — and  she  walks! 

In  my  next  I  will  try  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  which 
I  know  is  literally  consuming  3-011,  with  regard  to  the 
action  of  this  new  star  in  our  little  improvised 
dramas. 

Don't  let  it.  keep  3*011  awake  nights  or  spoil  your 
case  in  court. 

Affectionately, 

CHANNING. 

P.  S. — T  may  not  have  told  3^011  that  one  feature  of 
the  advanced  education  inaugurated  by  Professor 
Monboddo,  is  a  revival  of  the  ancient  Greek  festival, 
to  be  held  at  the  close  of  each  term.  There  will  be 
contests  in  oratory,  music,  ami  athletic  sports..  The 
subject  of  the  oration  will  be  announced  in  advance, 
and  the  field  will  be  open  to  competition  to  all  in  the 
state — the  prize,  to  be  as  of  old,  only  the  simple 
wreaths  of  laurel,  bay,  and  olive. 


72  THE  OPAL  QUEEtf. 

The  ladies  desired  to  supplement  the  festival  with 
a  supper  and  dauce  in  the  evening,  at  the  home  of 
one  of  their  number,  and  as  their  contribution  to  the 
neAV  scheme,  grace  the  scene  in  the  antique  cos- 
mmes  of  the  high-born  Grecian  ladies.  Mrs.  Healey 
leads  off',  Mrs.  Stilz  will  follow,  and  Belinda  hopes  to 
be  able  to  give  the  third,  in  her  elegant  palace  now 
building. 

She  has  had  special  reference  to  such  entertain- 
ments in  its  construction,  and  has  secured  all  that  is 
valuable  in  the  plan  of  an  ancient  Greek  mansion. 
But  "contractors  are  a  slippery  genus,"  and  the 
house,  judging  from  the  present  rate  of  progress,  will 
be  at  that  time  a  magnificent  pile  of  tantalizing  u.se- 
lessness,  in  which  case  Belinda  has  the  recognized 
right  to  extend  her  claim  to  the  first  term  of  the  next 
year. 

There  is  a  picturesque  arcade  built  chiefly  of  stained 
and  pictured  glass  bridging  the  distance  of  seventy 
feet  between  this  mansion  and  Doctor  Healey's,  which 
secures  the  privacy  of  the  visiting  inmates — the  Mon- 
boddoes  have  mimed  it  La  Q-alerie  de  la  Heine. 

C.  E. 

P.  S.  No.  2. — If  the  "cherub"  is  not  in  possession 
of  unadulterated  happiness,  the  "saints"  are  enjoy- 
ing an  unclouded  bliss  in  the  rosy  visions  conjured 
out  of — their  fancies  it  must  be,  although  they  affect  to 
see  them  in  the  atmosphere  that  surrounds  their 
"cherub."  Perhaps  I  have  not  informed  3-011  that 
this  is  the  coferie-sprache — home  vernacular — of  Su- 
perba.  The  "cherub,"  you,  who  are  so  Raphaelistic, 
will  recognize  without  the  aid  of  number  or  catalogue, 
as  your  humble  servant,  and  the  "saints"  comprise 
naturally  "Superba,"  "Pater,"  and  "Gran" — the 
first  being  rigidly  excluded  by  "Superba"  herself, 
but  embraced  in  her  son's  canonized  list.  It  follows 
as  conclusively  as  that  two  and  one  make  three,  that 
the  home  which  shelters  their  saintships-  should  be 
called  the  "  Saints'  Rest" — to  which,  old  fellow,  you 
are  now,  as  ever,  most  cordially  welcome. 


LETTER  TO  AHT  ON  OPAL.  73 

When  are  3*011  to  be  temporarily  released  from  your 
devotion  to  the  "jealous  science  of  the  law,"  soasto 
give  me  a  happening  in  propria  pers.ona?  I  am  per- 
suaded that  even  our  little  village  will  afford  yoti 
recreation  more  healthful  and  useful  than  you  get— 
not  than  you  could  find — in  the  small  circle  of  your 
life,  barren  of  anything  But  legal  incidents,  and  en- 
closed by  a  circumference  of  judges,  juries  and  clients. 
Your  legal  ability  and  attainments  will,  I  am  con- 
fident, conquer  a  success  for  3*011,  but  take  care  you 
don't  *' vanish  into  thin  air"  before  you  get  your 
laurel  chaplet.  I  will  close  with  Burns's  animating 
words— 

"  God  send  you  speed 
Still  daily  to  grow  wiser, 

And  may  you  better  reck  the  rede 
Than  ever  did  the  adviser." 

Affectionately, 

CHANNINGo 


?4  THE  OPAL 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE. 

DEAR  ART: 

1  have  been  studying  carefully  the  subject  of 
Fashion,  which  seems  such  an  engrossing  topic  in  these 
days — and  for  that  matter  in  what  days  has  it  not  been 
a  controlling  force  in  public  and  private  life,  and  a 
controlling  factor  in  shaping  public  opinion  ? 

I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  fashion  that 
has  no  intelligible  principle  in  it  must  inevitably 
change  with  the  caprices  and  covetousness  of  the 
people.  If  we  had  sumptuary  laws  to  regulate  our 
dress,  as  do  the  Chinese,  or  some  fixed  tradition  with 
the  authority  of  law,  there  would  be  some  hope  of  a 
reform  in  the  right  direction ;  for  then  all  classes 
would  unite  in  choosing  that  style  representing  the 
maximum  of  comfort  and  convenience — giving  play 
to  their  fancy  for  display,  in  the  richness  of  material 
and  splendor  of  the  decorations. 

You  have  not  our  soft,  genial  climate,  it  is  true,  and 
it  might  be  doubtful  whether  in  your  northern  latitude 
the  present  weight  of  the  male  attire  could  be  wisely 
diminished —but  it  is  also  true  that  the  fashion  that 
would  simplify  ladies'  dress  by  reducing  the  number 
of  pieces, would  be  an  immense  advance.  The  weight 
of  her  clothing  is  enough  in  many  cases  to  account 
for  nervous  prostration  and  impaired  constitutions. 
Fancy  one  of  our  modern  belles, with  her  draperies  all 
loaded  with  sewing-machine  work  and  jet  trimmings, 
practising  in  the  gymnasium  or  contending  in  the 
games  as  the  Spartan  women  did  ! 

With  fewer  and  combined  garments,  ease  of  move- 
ment and  healthier,  because  freer,  action  of  the  vital 


LETTER  TO  ARTllUlt  bOANE.  75 

organs  would  be  secured.  Exercise  would  become  us 
pleasurable  and  as  indispensable  as  the  bath,  and  the 
lack  of  the  superabundant  clothing  would  be  supplied 
by  the  increased  activity  of  the  circulatory  organs. 
Woman's  color  would  be  inside,  in  good,  rich  carmine 
globules,  instead  of  many  voluptuous  folds  of. the 
cardinal  drapery — true,  she  might  have  both,  but 
should  make  sure  of  the  inside  first. 

I  have  a  mind  to  revive  your  recollection  of  your 
college  days  with  an  apt  quotation.  Do  }'ou  remem- 
ber, in  Aristophanes,  how  Lys.i.->trate  complimented 
Lam |>i tn,  the  Spartan  lady  ? 

"  My  beloved  Lampito,  how  handsome  you  are  ! 
Your  completion. is  so  fine  and  your  person  so  full  and 
health}- ;  why,  you  could  strangle  a  bull." 

"Yes,"  replies  Lampito,  ul  fancy  I  could,  for  I 
exercise  myself  in  jumping  until  my  heels  touch  my 
back." 

Imagine  such  personal  vigor  let  loose  upon  the  dis- 
reputable class  of  bachelors  (you  may  thank  your 
stars,  Arthur,  that  you  don't  live  in  Greece  !)  whom 
Lycurgus  obliged  to  march  in  ignominious  procession, 
subject  to  chastisement  by  these  female  gymnasts, 
because  they  refused  to  enter  married  lii'e.  I  am  irot 
sure,  however,  but  that  it  would  be  a  useful  indict- 
ment, resulting  in  the  building  of  more  homes  and 
fewer  inebriate  asylums. 

By  the  way,  speaking  of  the  costume  of  women, 
I  come  by  easy  gradation  to  that  of  man — but  with 
no  generalizing  intent  I  wish  to  hold  up  to  your  in- 
spection an  individual  specimen  of  the  genus  homo, 
another  man  who  has  dared. 

Did  you  see  him?  He  arrived  in  your  streets  fresh 
from  Europe  yesterday,  so  the  paper  says.  He  wore 
trousers  fitting  like  a  stocking  down  to  the  ankle,  of 
a  light  green  color,  with  dark  green  stripes,  a  very 
short,  light  colored  vest,  and  a  bottle-green  cut-away, 
snug  as  a  jersey,  with  long  tails  reaching  to  the  knees  ; 
black  striped  shoes  with  un tanned  leather  tops,  atas- 
seled  cane,  and  a  big  English  Derby  surmounting  the 


76  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

whole,  with  a  curling  brim  and  heavy  crown.  Void 
quelque  chose  de  nouveau  I 

This  looks  as  though  Fashion,  like  most  everything 
else,  moves  in  a  circle. 

Earnest  spirits  dart  off  in  a  tangent  from  the  ca- 
nonical curve  in  pursuit  of  truth  to  a  proud  and  safe 
distance,  and  there  evolve  and  formulate  their  creeds. 
The  untiring,  restless  wheel  spins  round  and  round, 
generating  sparks  that  establish  a  current  to  draw 
them  in  again,  with  their  new  variations  of  the  -old 
thought ;  round  and  round  it  spins,  and  casts  them  out 
iu  the  heat  of  newer  sensations ;  round  and  round  it 
whirls,  throwing  off  one  after  another  its  faded  lumi- 
naries, that  revolve  in  their  own  circles  in  fair  view 
of  the  parent  light,  waiting  patiently  the  electric  cur- 
rent upon  whose  glowing  bosom  they  shall  trium- 
phantly flow  back  into  the  old  rim  of  thought ; — new 
no\v  to  the  travellers  of  the  fleeting  day. 

So  all  ideas  of  beauty  and  philosophy  have  come 
from  the  ancient  Greeks.  Other  generations  and 
people  demolish  or  modify  as  suits  their  whims.  A 
destructive  but  equally  corrective  age  like  ours  ex- 
tracts the  germ  and  gives  it  its  simple,  original  pre- 
eminence once  more. 

For  example  (be  patient,  Arthur,  I  am  almost 
through),  our  ancestors  in  Britain  wore  the  Greek 
costume  as  introduced  by  the  Romans — the  tunic, 
the  toga — which  was  the  Greek  himala,  and  the  brac- 
ca> — from  which  comes  our  word  breeches.  Then 
these  modified  by  the  Teutonic  genius  and  afterward 
by  the  Normans,  produced  the  trunk-hose.  These  be- 
came shortened  into  petticoat-hose,  which  again  were 
supplanted  by  the  knee-breeches  ;  the  latter  holding 
their  own  until  the  sans  culottes  inaugurated  the 
modern  dress  of  our  generation,  intending  it  as  a 
political  stroke  in  contempt  of  court  usages  after  the 
French  Revolution. 

The  Pre-Raphaelites  have  made  a  struggle  for  the 
knee  breeches,  and  no  one  will  complain  if  the  sense- 
less petticoat-hose  are  deservedly  skipped  in  the  re- 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  77 

trograde  series,  and  the  trunk-hose  taken  up  next  in 
order  (as  exemplified  by  the  preceding  pen  portrait). 
There  would  then  be  but  one  step  intervening  before 
you  reach  the  ancient  Greek  again.  There  is  already 
a  breaking  up  of  formality  in  costume,  which  is  a 
good  sign.  We  Monboddoes  are  anticipating  a  little, 
1  know,  and  have  made  a  prodigious  somersault  into 
the  past,  but  if  we  can  give  it  eclat,  we  shall  forestall 
public  opinion  and  win  the  day. 

And  now,  old  fellow,  let  me  close  this  branch  of  my 
subject  with  a  quotation  from  our  beloved  humorist 
and  poet-doctor — even  if  you  have  seen  it  you  will 
enjoy  its  reperusal  in  this  connection. 

"Fashions  will  change —the  new  costume  allures. 
Unfading  still  the  better  type  endures; 
While  the  slashed  doublet  of  the  cavalier 
Gave  the  old  knight  the  pomp  of  chanticleer, 
Our  last-hatched  dandy  with  his  glass  and  stick 
Recalls  the  semblance  of  a  new-born  chick; 
(To  match  the  model  he  is  aiming  at 
He  ought  to  wear  an  egg-shell  for  a  hat) ; 
Which  of  these  objects  would  a  painter  choose, 
And  which  Velasquez  or  Van  Dyke  refuse  ?" 

Some  one  has  said  that  the  degree  of  civilization  to 
which  a  country  has  attained  is  indicated  by  the 
quality  and  quantity  of  its  fashions.  I  know  not 
whether  yon  will  accept  the  principle  that  fashion  is 
the  exponent  of  progress,  but  is  not  the  reflex  action 
of  an  educational  process  markedly  observable  in  the 
costuming  art?  This  was  illustrated  in  the  case  of 
Wagner,  whose  musical  education  and  instincts  forced 
him  into  the  velvet  coat  and  breeches,  black  silk  stock- 
ings and  fine  lace  at  neck  and  wrist,  that  he  might 
be  a  living  symbol  of  the  dramatic  power  of  music. 
Styles  for  both  sexes  are  devised,  published,  hailed 
with  delight  by  the  ardent  votary  of  Fashion — or  im- 
posed upon  the  one  who  follows  her  afar  off  by  the 
artful  and  autocratic  costumer.  There  is  no  longer 
any  sncji  thing  as  individuality  of  taste  in  dress  ,•  the 
professional  designer  and  the  designing  costumer 
combine  to  cheat  us  out  of  our  birthright  privilege 


78  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

in  a  monopoly  of  the  field.  They  are  the  "  Master  " 
and  "  Mistress  of  the  Wardrobe  "  of  the  nineteenth 
century  ;  but  when  I  think  of  the  willing  slaves  and 
cheerful  imitators  of  their  highnesses,  I  am  inclined 
to  the  belief  that  there  is  more  monkey  than  man  in 
the  most  of  us. 

"  Belinda,"  of  all  her  companions,  dares — not  "to  be 
a  Daniel,"  for  I  fear  she  is  far  from  considering  that 
standard  worthy  of  her  imitation — but  to  be  true  to 
her  refined  instincts  in  her  apparel.  She  has  a  rare 
perception  of  fitness  and  harmony,  and  although  she 
does  not  for  a  moment  consider  herself  independent 
of  her  dressmaker,  I  know  to  a  certainty  that  she 
designs  her  own  styles  and  is  guiltless  of  the  posses- 
sion of  a  Revue  du  Monde,  or  any  of  its  companions. 
But  while  she  has  the  culture-craze  in  its  various 
departments  of  art  and  literature,  she  spends  little 
thought  on  the  artistic  decoration  of  her  person.  But 
this  is  no  virtue  in  Belinda,  for  if  she  had  not  an  in- 
fallible instinct  to  guide  her  in  the  selection  of  the 
required  draperies — this  power  of  psychologizing 
dress,  as  it  were — she  would  be  among  the  foremost 
in  cultivating  it,  for  she  is  a  born  aesthete. 

And  now  I  hear  you  howling  with  despair,  that  I, 
the  sagacious  youth  whom  you  have  dubbed  a  severely 
practical  and  unsusceptible  mortal,  should  have  one 
word  to  say  about  anything  so  heavenly  but  so  unfit 
for  earth's  needs,  as  a  modern  aesthete ! 

But  wait  a  moment.  Give  yourself  time  to  cool 
off ;— or  better,  I  will  benevolently  waive  the  subject 
until  you  are  at  regulation  heat. 

Dr.  Healey  made  a  fly  ing  business-trip  to  the  Queen 
City  of  the  West  last  week,  and  by  his  invitation  a 
select  party  of  us  accompanied  himself  and  wife.  We 
had  a  rare  time.  For  one  thing  the  foliage  was  in 
the  height  of  its  autumnal  glory,  and  gave  us  views 
of  nature  not  obtainable  in  our  more  uniform  climate. 

I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Art,  if  the  mystery  of  spring 
with  its  rich  freshness  and  delicate  tones  thrills  me 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  79 

with  delight,  these    autumnal    masses  of   iridescent 
splendor  quadrille  me  through  and  through. 

Perhaps,  now,  you  are  inclined  to  criticise  the  verb 
by  which  I  have  expressed  this  seasonable  sensation  ; 
but  reflect  before  you  commit  yourself  so  rashly,  that 
1  am  nothing  if  not  etymological,  and  be  content 
when  I  assure  you,  on  the  authority  of  Earle's  latest 
edition,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  lay  instant  and 
challenging  hands  on  the  "Unabridged"  at  your 
elbow.  For  oh  !  my  astute  law-grubber,  is  not  the 
word  derived  from  quadrus,  and  am  I  not  dissected, 
as  it  were,  into  four  pieces  and  scattered  to  the  four 
winds  of  heaven,  in  my  effort  to  take  in  the  whole  of 
my  horizon  of  prismatic  loveliness  ?  Or,  again,  Nature 
provides  a  sea  of  color  to  entrance  my  eyes  ;  she  also 
distils  from  her  alembics  a  narcotic,  which  steeps  my 
senses  while  I  am  gazing,  in  a  delicious  languor,  and 
I  am  in  a  maze  compared  with  which  the  airy  motions 
of  the  fleet-footed  dancers,  as  they  thread  their  way 
through  the  windings  of  the  quadrille,  are  but  a  feeble 
imitation  !  I  repeat  it,  sir.  I  was  quadrilled  through 
and  through !  And  with  it  all,  I  had  a  feeling  of 
rapturous  gratitude  that  I  was  alive  to  take  it  all  in  ! 
This  one  thing  may  be  said  in  poor  Eve's  favor,  that 
we  owe  the  autumnal  decorations  of  nature  to  her 
misconduct  under  the  apple-tree.  Decay,  in  this  one 
instance,  is  a  garment  of  beauty.  Without  the  death 
of  vegetation,  we  could  have  no  autumnal  glories, 
and  we  must  take  our  fill  of  them  here,  as  there  are 
none  in  the  promised  land — witness  the  lines: 

"  Sweet  fields  stand  dressed  in  living  green." 

This  suggests  a  conundrum  which  you  may  puzzle 
over  at  your  leisure.  Why  is  England  like  heaven  ? 
But  as  you  are  a  proverbially  bad  guesser,  I  beg 
you  not  to  postpone  your  reply  to  this  letter  until 
you  have  solved  it,  or  you  may  find  in  the  insane 
asylum, 

Yours  faithfully, 

CHAN. 


80  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

DHAR  CHAN: 

Here  is  a  go!  A  most  contemptibly  cool  piece  of 
business,  I  Ciill  it,  in  my  once  sagacious  friend  to  as- 
sume "heat"  in  his  auditor,  because,  forsooth,  he  is 
in  a  flame  himself,  when  that  auditor  has  heard  noth- 
ing, as  yet,  in  the  recital  of  dressmaking  to  start  his 
pulse  one  beat  beyond  its  normal  action — and  then 
summarily  to  leave  him,  ostensibly  to  recover,  but 
really  to  find  a  cure  for  his  own  frightful  disorder 
and  feverish  pulse  ! 

I  will  accept  your  letter  with  all  its  palaver,  if  you 
give  me  the  privilege  of  an  amendment.  Strike 
out  "  quadrilled  "  and  substitute  grilled.  Pray  who  is 
the  syren  that  is  cooking  your  heart  on  her  red-hot 
gridiron  ?  For  seriously,  Chan,  you  have  never  be- 
fore given  such  positive  proofs  of  love-sickness. 

Roaming  the  streets  and  woods,  idly  sauntering 
and  losing  yourself  in  dreams  and  vagaries,  talking 
about  "  seas  of  color,"  while,  no  doubt,  your  face 
takes  on  a  chameleon  hue.  Now  you  stand  by  the 
ocean  and  reflect  its  blue,  now  by  a  mountain  in 
crimson  and  gold  and  you  are  colored  like  a  lobster, 
now  upon  the  emerald  grass  and  you  grow  every  mo- 
ment more  verdant!  Pia}^  who  is  the  fair  creature? 
Have  you  addressed  a  sonnet  to  her  fairy  nails? 

"A  guilty  conscience  needs  no  accuser,"  my  dear 
Chan,  and  now  since  you  have  (perhaps  uncon- 
sciously) defined  your  position,  can't  you  let  a  fellow 
still  farther  into  the  secret?  Is  she  a  blonde,  and  do 
you  lof  her?  as  saith  our  Italian  friend.  Haf  you 
yet  make  her  acquaintance,  or  haf  you  just  met  her 
on  the  Rialto? 

Those  asseverations,  "  Iknow  to  a  certainty"  etc.,  do 
not  by  any  means  deceive  me  as  to  your  intimacy.  1 
know  to  a  certainty  that  my  transparent  chum  has 
not  been  holding  this  secret  in  the  recesses  of  his 
being,  until  he  is  hand  in  glove  with  the  fair  damsel. 
There  are  other  avenues  of  information  open  to  a 
man  who  possesses  a  charming  Superba,  and  a  chatty, 


LETTER  TO  CH  ANN  ING.  81 

bewitching  grandma,  the  delight  of  all  the  girls  in  the 

village. 

And  glad  enough  I  am  that  you  are  only  near  the 
precincts  of  the  enchanted  land  ;  for,  as  your  best 
friend  and  counsellor,  I  warn  you  not  to  cross  the 
border-!  Beware  !  Beware !  She  is  fooling  thee, 
even  thee,  Charming  Earle !  with  which  poetical 
alarum  I,  too,  will  beat  a  hasty  retreat  and  go  to 
a  more  serious  "  courting  affair.'' 

Yours  affectionately  (but,  candor  compels  me  to 
say,  not  sympathetically^), 

ARTHUR. 


82  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OTTO  DRESSON'S  SUCCESS. 

" Art  became  the  shadow 

Of  the  dear  starlight  of  thy  haunting  eyes." 

E.  llulwcr  Lytton. 

OTTO  DKESSON  was  not  slow  to  avail  himself  of  the 
privilege  of  cultivating  con  amore  so  charming  a.  per- 
son, and  one  so  altogether  to  his  taste  as  Miss  Archer. 
And  he  saw  now  in  the  idle  life  hitherto  tolerated 
with  dignified  impassive  calm,  the  cradle  of  a  new 
bliss.  Mr.  Dresson  was  never  ecstatic  ;  but  the  soft, 
lunar  atmosphere  that  had  suffused  his  being  was  now 
heightened  by  brilliant  auroral  flashes  that  dazzled  his 
nights  and  gave  a  new  and  richer  tone  to  his  life. 

And  he  knew  secret  avenues  to  Cupid's  most  en- 
trenched citadel.  "It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  be 
courted  you  know,"  he  had  often  said,  to  the  young 
girls,  to  whom  his  attentions  were  not  ministered  in 
quantities  sufficient  to  suit  their  appetites,  and  who 
were  constantly  outlining  an  array  of  special  induce- 
ments as  a  decoy  for  his  visits,  insinuating  by  this 
superlative  egotism  that  they  would  die  of  broken 
hearts  if  he  did  not  marry  them. 

It  soon  became  apparent  that  the  dangerous  ground 
had  Miss  Archer  for  its  very  luminous  center,  who,  by 
no  means  so  unsophisticated  as  to  be  unconscious  of 
the  danger,  deliberately  chose  to  ignore  it  and  take 
what  the  gods  sent  without  question  or  hindrance, 
especially  when  the  gift  came  in  the  shape  of  a  culti- 
vated young  man  of  imposing  personal  appearance, 
refined  taste,  and  a  "  patrimony  sufficient  for  any  one." 

This  might  be  great  or  small  according  to  the  point 


OTTO  DBESSOlfS  SUCCESS..  83 

of  view,  bat  Elise  had  a  magic  faculty,  happy  but 
illusory,  of  resolving  the  unknowable  into  the  definite 
shape  of  her  desires,  and  so  swam  smoothly  along  on 
the  rosy  breakers  of  what  would  sometimes  prove  a 
swamping  sea;  and  with  an  easy-going  confidence  in 
those  who  made  her  little  world,  the  thought  of  dis- 
puting, questioning,  or  investigating  other  people's 
concerns  never  came  into  her  happy  head.  It  seemed 
so  natural  to  be  supplied  with  a  sufficiency  of  life's 
wherewithal,  that  she  never  discounted  the  so-called 
fortunes  of  rumor. 

Doubting  was  foreign  to  her  nature  on  all  subjects. 
She  believed  heartily  in  people  and  things,  and  this 
was  the  culminating  charm  of  her  presence.  Having 
a  freshness  of  faith,  a  "stainless  trust"  which  the 
years  had  not  been  able  to  impair,  it  was  never 
necessary  to  assume  that  deference  to  the  wish  or 
opinion  of  others  upon  which  hangs  all  the  skill  of 
genial  converse,  and  which  preserves  from  friction  the 
wheels  of  the  social  universe.  It  was  not  so  much 
what  she  said,  it  never  is  with  a  charming  woman,  as 
the  way  in  which  she  said  it,  that  attracted  and  mag- 
netized her  listeners  and  gave  her  the  imperishable 
title  to  their  favor.  But  with  all  her  iridescence,  her 
sweet  depreciation  of  self  and  flexibility  of  tempera- 
ment, she  never  compromised  the  truth. 

Dresson  soon  rose  from  his  self-appointed  position 
of  tutor  extraordinary  in  the  art  and  science  of  aes- 
thetics to  the  successive  ranks  of  admirer  and  suitor 
for  her  hand.  He  saw  the  diminishing  force  of  as- 
pirants with  unkindling  eye  and  unabated  compo- 
sure ;  but  with  something  akin  to  a  sensation  of  the 
narrow  delight  of  a  refined  triumph,  he  noted  the  re- 
doubtable Channing  slowly  vanishing  to  the  rear. 

The  contest  had  not  been  sharp — there  was  a  show 
of  crossing  swords,  but  no  real  encounter.  Chan- 
ning did  not  for  a  time  abandon  his  promised  duty  as 
escort,  and  faithfully  conducted  Elise  to  the  pro- 
gressive entertainments.  He  had  acquired  a  brave 
mastery  over  the  little  initial  temptations  to  fall  in 


84  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

love  with  his  fair  protege",  "  which,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "even  if  it  should  prove  temporary  is  useful,  and 
may  he  renewed  in  the  same  furnace  where  it  was 
forged."  If  he  had  miseries,  lie  veiled  them,  and 
maintained  the  noble  and  frank  bearing  for  which 
he  had  been  distinguished.  He  was  never  more  fe- 
licitous in  the  exhibition  of  scholarly  attainments  and 
manly  virtues  than  when  measuring  lances  with 
Dresson  in  argument,  or  in  the  social  banter  called 
forth  in  the  frequent  meetings  at  the  house  of  their 
mutual  friend. 

Dresson,  who  really  had  art  ideas,  was  tenacious  of 
them  to  a  degree  which  he  called  worship,  and  as  far 
as  he  was  capable  of  an  enthusiasm,  was  enthusiastic 
for  their  popularization, 

He  had  been  a  devout  student  of  Schiller  and 
Goethe,  Ruskin,  and  the  pre-Raphaelites,  and  classified 
himself  in  that  illustrious  division  of  mankind's  bene- 
factors. 

Charming  thought  him  a  kind  of  dreamer  with  as- 
pirations for  reform,  but  with  a  disgust  for  the  minu- 
tiae of  practical  development  and  a  disposition  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  outward  show  of  things  while  pro- 
posing only  vague  remedies  for  the  evil. 

Mrs.  Earle  declared  laughing  that  the  best  thing 
she  could  think  of  for  him  was  a  good  dose  of  arti- 
chokes and  she  believed  she  would  send  him  a  bushel, 
and  even  Grandma  said  that  nothing  much  better 
than  weeds  ever  came  out  of  the  hot-bed  of  idleness. 

Mrs.  Healey  found  his  conduct  irreproachable,  but 
was  yet  secretly  alarmed  lest  Elise,  who  was  too  ami- 
able to  discourage  an  agreeable  visitor,  might  in  the 
end  prove  too  amiable  to  resist  his  fascinations. 

Meantime  Elise  was  in  the  vortex. 

There  were  drives  and  promenades,  nosegays,  bil- 
let-doux, and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  small  arms  and 
ammunition  available  to  the  love-warrior. 

Elise  would  scarcely  have  been  human  if  she  had 
not  felt  a  certain  pride  in  the  new  grant  of  monopoly 
thus  voluntarily  surrendered  by  Dresson. 


OTTO  BRESSON'S  SUCCESS.  85 

It  gradually  became  a  settled  thing  that  Dresson 
should  accompany  her  everywhere;  and  while  there 
was  still  a  random  and  desultory  pursuit  by  numbers 
of  the  Alonboddoes,  it  was  with  the  prima  facie  evi- 
dence of  being  nonsuited.  Dresson  was  in  possession 
of  one  commodity  that  gave  him  unrivalled  possession 
of  the  field,  and  that  was  time  in  its  bulk,  in  its  es- 
sence, in  its  purity  ;  they  had  but  fragments  for  rec- 
reation and  found,  or  rather  could  not  find  the  little 
dents  they  made  in  the  fortress — the  elastic  walls 
under  Dresson's  skilled  generalship  having  resumed 
their  natural  shape  before  they  got  around  again  with 
their  battering-rams. 

But  Elise's  triumph,  if  triumph  it  was,  was  to  be 
measured  by  the  disappointment'  of  her  sex  at  the 
loss  of  their  conventional  beau,  the  handsome  knight 
of  the  fanciful  figure.  Triumph  it  certainly  was  not 
in  the  sense  that  she  had  worked  for  it,  planned  for 
it,  or  even  heartily  desired  it — and  it  would  have  been 
less  had  it  not  been  the  signal  defeat  of  so  many  of  the 
beautiful  girls  of  the  village.  And  it  is  not  strange 
that,  whirled  along  as  she  was  by  the  excitements  of 
days  and  weeks,  she  should  give  this  a  prominence 
which  added  zest  to  her  conquest.  It  was  really  noth- 
ing new  to  be  admired  and  to  be  sought,  but  she 
had  never  before  been  pitted  against  so  many  rivals — 
never  before  felt  the  fascinating  ambition  of  outri- 
valling  her  competitors.  Not  that  she  acknowledged 
this  openly  to  herself,  but  somehow,  without  word  or 
comment,  or  wish  to  analyze  or  care  to  know,  down 
deep  in  her  heart,  under  all  the  hubbub  and  the  glare, 
she  felt  the  hidden  glow  of  this  invisible  force.  She 
was  always  happy — she  was  happy  now  in  her  choice 
—because  she  idealized  her  lover,  and  thus  uncon- 
sciously supplied  his  every  lack. 

He  called  her,  "  My  Queen,"  with  a  tender  grace, 
discoursed  charmingly  on  keramics  and  archaeology 
and  Grecian  art. 

As  a  lover,  Elise  thought  him  quite  Japanese  and 
distingue,  because  he  preserved  always  that  supreme 


86  THE  OPAL  QUEEN, 

deference  to  etiquette  that  did  not  venture  beyond 
her  finger-tips  for  a  kiss,  or  nearer  than  her  hand  for 
a  caress.  He  was  minute  in  hie  attentions  and  antici- 
pations of  her  most  feathery  wish.  He  sat,  enthralled, 
by  her  music,  and  pronounced  every  ubit  of  por- 
celain "  that  she  decorated  "  a  gem,  and  quite  the 
correct  thing  you  know,"  in  his  languid,  mellifluous 
flow  of  complimentary  torrent.  He  gratified  her 
vanity — and  it  was  "so  nice"  to  be  adored,  and  her 
heart  filled  with  such  a  gracious  pity  when  she  found 
him  likely  to  be  "the  most  collapsed  of  men"  at  the 
prospect  of  losing  her,  that  she  finally  granted  his 
petition  ;  saying  to  herself  "  a  feeling  so  akin  to  Love 
will  not  be  long  in  reaching  its  stature." 

"  I  have  alwftys  had  a  feeling,"  she  said  to  Lily, 
"  that  my  chevalier  should  make  a  brave  onset  and  cap- 
ture me  in  spite  of  myself;  there  is  something  very 
fascinating  about  'dash'  in  this  matter." 

"  But  what  if  the  wrong  knight  should  make  a 
brilliant,  desperate  charge,  Elise?" 

"  But  I  think,  Lil,  Otto  is  the  true  knight,"  she 
replied  demurely. 

Lily  made  an  exclamation  of  astonish me-nt. 

"  I  just  couldn't  bear  to  see  him  in  such  dispirit- 
ment — so  wan  and  prostrate — the  grand  pre-Ra- 
phaelite  at  my  feet  in  tears  !  Why,  Lil,  you  know 
I  am  not  an  icicle,  and  if  I  had  been,  was  not  that 
enough  to  dissolve  me  into  penitence — and  recan- 
tation ?  Any  how,  like  the  early  martyrs,  I  did  re- 
cant and  like  Cranmer — what  a  pathetic  antique  that 
scene  makes,  Lil — I  said,  bending  over  him,  "'This 
right  hand  hath  offended,  take  it  and  do  what  you 
will,  my  lord!" 

Lilian  was  gazing  at  her  in  mute  surprise,  and 
Elise  went  on  : 

"I  don't  always  use  such  stilted  language,  you 
know,  but  somehow  at  the  very  sight  of  Otto  my 
thoughts  march  into  pre-Raphaelite  file,  and  I  ad- 
vance on  that  line  without  budging  to  right  or 
left." 


OTTO  fiEESSON'S  SUCCESS.  87 

"  Oh,  fie  !  Elise,  to  cany  your  dramatics  into  such 
a  reality !  What  a  useless  sacrifice  !  What  an  in- 
fatuation for  you  to  be  oblivious  of  the  outcome  of 
all  this! — "  then  she  realized  her  harshness,  and  be- 
sides, that  in  her  disappointment  she  was  over-step- 
ping her  bounds — 

"  There  is  something  besides  aesthetics  in  marriage, 
you  must  know,  Elise,"  she  continued  kindly,  "and 
you  better  commence  with  the* practical,  the  common 
sense  now — 

*'  Common-sense  is  at  a  discount,  dear.  Every 
stupid  that  comes  along  claims  an  over-stock  of  it." 

"  Elise,"  said  Lily,  feeling  that  now,  if  ever,  she 
must  speak  a  deciding  word,  and  }"et  shrinking  lest 
by  an  unguarded  speech  she  should  lose  the  influence 
she  now  possessed,  "do  you  know  that  there  are 
depths  in  your  heart  that  have  never  been  stirred, 
no,  not  so  much  ;is  ruffled?" 

"  Then  why  don't  my  hero  come  along  and  stir 
them  ?  "  she  replied  gayly.  "  Haven't  I  been  wait- 
ing here  like  a  harp  well  strung  and  bright,  all  ready 
tuned,  for,  lo  !  these  many  years,  only  waiting,  waiting 
for  somebody  to  get  the  music  out  of  me !  Some 
master-hand,  Lil,  that  can  sweep  over  the  chords  and 
captivate  me,  body  and  soul!  There's  music  in  me, 
I  think,  deep,  deep  down  in  the  recesses  of  my  being. 
I  hear  its  low,  sweet  singing  sometimes  in  the  dark, 
and  it  sounds  like  far-away  marriage-bells."  She 
paused  and  then  said  with  a  sigh,  "  But  maybe  after 
all  it's  only  a  dirge — a  sad,  soulful  dirge,  Lil !  "  They 
were  silent  a  moment,  and  then  Elise  said  abruptly: 
"But  what  are  we  talking  about?  The  man  is  ac- 
cepted I  I  can't  repudiate  that  contract,  you  know, — 
and  I  am  ready  for  congratulations,  Lily,  not  remon- 
strances !  If  you  were  not  just  my  very,  very  dearest 
friend,"  she  said,  twining  her  arms  about  her,  "  I  think 
I  should  scold  you  a  little,  for  so  disregarding  '  the 
proprieties,'  and  for  putting  me  out  of  tune  with  my 
self.  I  hate  discords!  But  never  mind,  Lil,"  she 
went  on  in  her  old  coaxing  way,  "I'll  forgive  you,  for 
you  know  I  am  devoted  to  you  ! " 


88  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   JEWELS. 

"This  southern  climate's  quare,  Biddy, 
A  quare  and  bastely  thing, 
Wid  winter  absent  all  the  year, 
And  summer  in  the  spring." 

O.  C.  Kerr. 

THE  river  upon  which  Brentville  is  situated  is  from 
a  mile  to  two  mites  wide,  and  runs  its  majestic  course 
through  two  degrees  of  latitude,  and  then  through 
several  "  narrows  "  enters  the  mighty  deep.  Or  rather, 
as  it  is  properly  only  an  estuary,  the  sea  has  worn  its 
way  through  these  "  narrows"  and  swept  northward. 

A  narrow  peninsula — in  one  place  only  thirty  yards 
wide — divides  it  from  old  ocean's  raging  billows  on 
the  east,  and  ministers  to  the  health  and  comfort  of 
the  river  residents.  The  invigorating  salt  air  sweeps 
across  this  narrow  belt  and  comes  to  them  softened 
and  laden  with  the  healing  balsam  of  the  spruce  and 
pine. 

The  seasons  lose  their  count,  the  months  forget  their 
names,  in  this  climate  of  perpetual  spring.  They  do 
indeed  come  and  go  after  a  fashion  ;  but  Dame  Nature 
lias  withdrawn  the  barriers  in  production  that  fence 
it  around  in  the  "  up-country,"  and  the  sowing  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  reaping,  the  planting  by  the  fruition, 
without  discrimination  of  times  and  seasons.  To  be 
sure,  there  are  some  best  times  for  all  kinds  of  hus- 
bandry ;  but  Nature  begins  her  work  at  an}'  time  that 
the  husbandman  chooses  to  confide  lus  treasures  to 
her  keeping. 

Villas  scattered  all  along  the  banks  of  the  river  form 


THE  JEWELS.  89 

a  continuous  suburb  to  the  villages  that  lie  between. 
Doctor  Henley's  residence  enclosed  ten  acres  and  was 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  village.  He  called  it 
Bay  Terrace,  for  the  "sea  has  taken  a  bite  right  out 
of  the  land  here,"  he  said. 

The  mode  of  transit  is  Venetian  ;  yachts  are  the 
carriages  and  sails  the  horses  that  conduct  the  inhabit- 
ants from  point  to  point ;  and  it  is  as  easy  to  step  from 
the  beautiful  white  beach  or  the  private  pier  into  one 
of  these  aquatic  carry  alls,  as  from  Fifth  Avenue  steps 
to  the  wheeled  landau. 

Marine  sports  give  vigor  to  the  frames  of  girls  and 
boys,  as  well  as  to  the  manly  Monboddoes  training  for. 
their  regattas  or  trolling  for  their  bass.  The  silvery 
mullet,  those  agile  gymnasts  of  the  deep,  are  the  vic- 
tims of  gun  or  cast-net,  and  the  remarkable  variety  of 
crabs  kindly  end  (or  begin,  perhaps)  in  the  propitious 
horse-shoe. 

The  evenings  on  the  river,  when  its  waves  were 
hushed  into  a  mirrored  stillness,  and  great  floods  of 
gold  and  crimson  mantled  the  boundless  horizon,  or 
deep  belts  of  pale,  blending  mauves  and  pinks  and 
salmons  rilled  air  and  rigging  with  a  softened  splendor, 
or  a  rosy  flame  with  its  pulsing,  fading  shades  suf- 
fused the  sky  and  was  repeated  in  the  water — such 
evenings,  melting  into  a  fleeting  twilight  and  then  into 
bright  starlight  or  moonlight,  were  the  pride  and  the 
delight  of  the  denizens  on  the  glorious  river. 

Bresson  had  fitted  up  a  yacht  right  royally  for  his 
"  Queen,"  and  here,  with  the  sunset  calm  sinking  into 
her  soul  and  his  melodious  voice  hushing  every  dis- 
cord into  peace,  Elise  felt  as  if  she  had  indeed  found 
her  paradise,  and  gave  herself  wholly  to  the  happy 
present  and  bright  anticipations  for  a  future  as  serene. 

Excursions  by  day  and  by  night  were  frequent 
on  this  tideless  sea  ;  sometimes  there  were  picnics 
suddenly  extemporized,  and  these  generally  proved 
more  enjoyable  than  those  planned  to  order. 

The  Doctor's  practice  was  in  two   villages    and  up    ' 
and  down  the  river  for  twenty  miles.     He  had  a  fast 


90  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

sailing  craft,  and  with  a  fair  wind  could  make  the 
distance  in  easy  time. 

This  morning  there  came  a  call  from  Nassamee, 
ten  miles  away,  and  Mrs.  Healey,  who  always  ac- 
companied her  husband  on  his  long  trips,  sent  out 
messages  to  her/riencls  to  form  a  fleet  for  a  moonlight 
excursion. 

They  gathered  from  near  and  from  far. 

"See,  Elise,"  she  cried,  as  they  were  descending 
the  flowery  terrace  to  the  beach,  and  spied  through 
the  vistas  the  white  sails  glistening,  "  what  a  fine 
convoy  I  have !  The  Dove,  the  Idler,  the  Eagle,  the 
Nonsense,  the  Arrow,  the  North-Star,  and  the  Cleo- 
patra. What  a  gay  time  we  will  have ! " 

Bat  Elise  did  not  respond.  She  had  grim  fore- 
bodings from  the  fractious  condition  of  her  head  that 
the  "  gay  time,"  was  not  for  her. 

Dresson  had  gone  for  Miss  Love,  and  was  the  last 
to  arrive,  coming  up  to  the  pier  just  as  they  stepped 
upon  the  beach. 

Elise  sank  upon  the  cushioned  bench,  overcome 
with  what  she  thought  a  momentary  sharpness  of  pain. 

Dr.  Healey  led  off  in  the  Dove,  and  the  others,  soon 
following — scattered  wide  or  in  pairs — dotted  the  blue 
with  their  snowy  rigging.  They  had  made  but  a 
short  distance  when  Elise  said  faintly : 

"  You  must  take  me  back,  Otto  ;  this  dancing  water 
makes  me  sick." 

"  'Pon  my  word,  Elise,  that  is  too  bad  !  Can't  do 
it  very  well,  you  know — Miss  Love  here,  and  the 
party  expecting  us.  Take  that  distant  palmetto,  now, 
for  a  point  of  view,  and  just  balance  like  this,  you 
know  — 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can't,  Otto,"  Elise  interrupted,  mak- 
ing a  desperate  effort  to  smile. 

"Can't  I  give  you  some  brandy  now?"  he  asked, 
bringing  out  a  flask  from  the  locker.  "  Won't  hurt 
you  one  bit,  you  know — improve  your  tone  and 
color " 

But  she  shook  her  head  despairingly. 


THE  JEWELS.  91 

"Well,  it  is  a  pity,  you  know,  but  if  you  say  so, 
we'll  head  for  shore." 

Dresson  .sounded  his  couch,  and  Bertha  soon  ap- 
peared. 

"  But  you  are  not  to  stay  with  me,  Otto  ! "  Elise 
protested,  as  he  proceeded  to  anchor.  "  No,  Otto,  I 
beg  !  "  she  said,  as  he  still  persisted.  "  You  must  go 
on  with  Miss  Love — I  would  not  for  anything  disap- 
point you  of  your  pleasure." 

"  But  don't  you  need  help,  Miss  Archer?"  asked 
Miss  Love ;  "  do  let  me  stay." 

"  Oh,  no,  dear,  thank  you.  Bertha  i.3  here  and  I 
feel  better  even  now  away  from  that  giddy  water," 
she  replied,  smiling. 

They  demurred,  but  Elise  at  last  persuaded  them 
to  rejoin  the  fleet.  She  sat  on  the  beach  and  watched 
them  out  of  sight.  The  increasing  coolness  of  the  ah* 
renerved  her,  and  the  comforting  steadiness  of  old 
Mother  Earth's  bosom  was  never  so  prized  before. 
Under  these  influences,  she  soon  became  herself 
again. 

"  Well,  Bertha,  I  must  make  out  an  evening  some 
how,"  she  said  as  they  stood  upon  the  verandah  to- 
gether. •'  I  guess  I  will  have  a  jewel  night.  Bring 
me  all  my  jewels,  Bertha,"  she  added,  fumbling 
for  her  key  in  the  deepening  twilight  as  she  entered 
the  library  door. 

It  was  her  favorite  room,  quaint  and  cozy,  with  a 
mullioned  bay-window  in  front.  The  drapery  of  the 
plush-embroidered  cover  hung  over  the  center-table  in 
rich  folds  to  the  floor.  There  would  be  ample  space 
upon  it,  she  thought,  for  her  treasures,  and  she  would 
sit  here  and  examine  and  rearrange  them.  Some 
stones  were  lost,  some  were  loose,  some  needed  polish- 
ing, others  were  out  of  repair,  and  for  some  she  de- 
signed new  settings. 

"I  will  give  them  a  careful  scrutiny, "she  observed, 
as  Bertha  returned,  "and  shall  not  need  you  for  some 
time.  The  butler  has  this  evening  out,  and  James 
must  take  this  note  for  me  to  Widow  Herman,  two 


92  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

miles  on  the  road  to  Dumfrey.  Cook  begged  so  hard 
to  go  and  see  her  old-country  cousin,  just '  come  over,' 
tliiit  Mrs.  Ilealey  gave  her  permission  ;  so  you  remain 
within  call,  Bertha,  and  if  you  feel  like  it,  go  on  with 
your  portiere,  as  I  am  anxious  to  have  it  finished  for 
the  fete.  Now  draw  down  the  shades  and  bring 
lights,  Bertha,;  you  may  illuminate,  to-night,  sconces 
and  all,  to  give  me  full  blaze  on  the  stones." 

She  was  thinking  of  what  Otto  had  said  to  her  that 
morning,  and  automatically  opening  every  casket — 
only  partly  conscious  of  the  movements  of  her  fingers — 
extracted  the  shining  gems  and  placed  them  in  a 
glittering  heap  before  her.  Even  then,  as  they  lay 
there  throbbing  with  prismatic  hues,  she  did  not  cease 
her  reverie.  She  leaned  her  head  upon  her  elbow. 
It  was  a  rich,  warm  night  in  April,  and  "the  breeze 
gently  dallied  with  the  window-hangings  in  satin  and 
lace — which  Otto  had  called  a  nocturne  in  color — 
and  softly  touched  her  fair  cheek.  She  caught  np  a 
diamond  aigrette  and  held  it  listlessly  before  her,  but 
her  eyes  were  not  on  it,  and  her  mind  was  far  away 
in  the  sweet,  illusive  dreamland. 

The  rising  wind  came  with  a  delicious  freshness  to 
her  brow,  as  she  sat  there  pondering  on  those  words 
full  of  a  vague  mystery  and  sweet  significance.  Now 
the  curtains  gently  flapped  with  monotonous  regular- 
ity, and  Elise  lazily  glanced  from  them  into  the  mir- 
ror opposite  the  table.  Her  attention  was  arrested 
for  an  instant  lay  the  brilliant  picture  of  herself  and 
surroundings,  but  on  swift  wing  it  flew  away  and  left 
her  still  "  in  maiden  meditation  fancy  free,"  until  a 
sharp  swirl  lifted  the  table  cover,  and  oh!  horror! 
was  she  mistaken?  Could  it  be  the  crouched  form 
of  a  man  that  for  one  vanishing  instant  crossed  her 
retina  ?  All  the  color  fled  from  her  face — then  she 
thought : 

"What  a  silly  fear! — My  imagination  is  vivid  to- 
night, I  know,  and  my  fancy  lias  conjured  out  of 
these  antique  carvings  a  human  figure." 

She  made  an  effort  to  feel  gay,  but  was  now  thor- 


THE  JEWELS.  93 

oughly   aroused   and  sensible  of  the  danger  of  her 
position. 

"  Come,  O  friendly  JEolus !  lift  up  these  heavy 
draperies  once  more — blow  this  phantasm  away,  and 
prove  to  me  that  I  have  a  bewildered  vision  to-night." 

Still,  although  she  assumed  nonchalance,  she  did 
not,  could  not,  stir — her  eyes  were  riveted  on  the 
mirror. 

"  Oh !  will  it  never  rise  again  ?  Why  did  I  let 
Bertha  go  ?  "  She  was  paralyzed,  although  clear- 
headed and  outwardly  calm.  Now  there  came  a 
great  gust,  and — yes,  her  worst  fears  were  realized. 

"  Cover  him  up — O  friendly  ^Eolus !  G^ve  her 
time  to  think — to  think  !  Cease  your  whirling  dance, 
disturb  not  one  more  fold,  and  give  her  time  to 
think  ! " 

She  plucked  up  a  desperate  courage  and  deliberated 
with  palpitating  heart,  while  she  lightly  fingered  the 
precious  stones. 

If  she  rang  for  her  maid,  the  robber  might  spring 
upon  her,  or  snatch  some  of  the  jewels  and  flee 
through  the  open  window.  Even  if  lie  did  not  in- 
terfere with  her  summons,  how  could  Bertha  help 
her? 

If  she  pleaded  indisposition,  postponed  the  ex- 
amination, and  sent  the  jewels  back  to  her  room  and 
followed  Bertha,  he  might  secrete  himself  in  some . 
other  part  of  the  house  ;  or,  suspicious  of  discovery, 
this  might  precipitate  an  attack  upon  them — for  that 
robbers  make  light  of  murder  she  well  knew — and  if 
he  did  not  hurt  them,  with  the  stern  logic  of  pistol 
and  oaths,  he  might  hold  them  there  while  he  gath- 
ered up  the  jewels  and  fled. 

She  had  herself  communicated  the  intelligence  of 
the  absence  of  her  household  staff,  and  if  the  robber 
was  not  apprised  of  this  before,  and  sought  the  oppor- 
tunity, he  certainly  knew  it  now,  and  the  tremendous 
advantage  of  acting  at  once. 

Now  she   remembered,' too,  that  she  had  mad  vert- 


04  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

eutly  mentioned  to  Bertha  in  the  robber's  hearing 
that  her  linest  set,  the  opals,  were  at  the  jeweller's— 
and  if  they  allowed  him  to  escape,  he  might  make 
the  jeweller  his  point  of  attack.  Every  second  was 
precious,  for  it  was  not  likely  that  the  bold  intruder 
would  hesitate  to  use  violence,  and  two  timid  females 
could  be  easily  silenced. 

"Two  are  better  than  one,"  she  gasped  mentally. 
"  Something  must  be  done  !  "  Hardly  knowing  her 
own  purpose,  she  arose  from  her  chair,  she  walked  to 
the  bell  and  summoned  her  maid.  That  Rubicon 
was  safely  passed — the  robber  did  not  stir. 

Bertha  came  promptly — good  Bertha. 

"Bertha!"  she  said  with  a  forced  calm  that  per- 
mitted no  visible  agitation,  and  the  data  for  a  plan 
that  instant  flashed  into  her  mind.  "  My  finest  set 
i.->,  you  know  I  told  you,  at  the  jeweller's— I  have 
a  fancy  for  seeing  my  jewels  all  together  to-night. 
Suppose  you  run  over  there — it  will  not  take  more 
than  fifteen  minutes  at  the  most,  will  it?  and  no 
one  will  disturb  me  in  that  time.  But  stop  ! — I  will 
write  him  a  note,  for  they  are  very  precious,  you 
know,  and  he  would  not  give  them  to  anyone,  he 
told  me,  without  an  order.  Bring  my  escritoire, 
Bertha  !  "  She  hastily  wrote  : 

MR.  BARTON, 

My  maid,  Bertha,  will  hand  you  this  note  and  ask 
you  for  my  jewels,  but  do  not  give  them  to  her.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  send  help  instantly  to  my  house  I  A 
robber  has  entered  my  dwelling — is  at  my  feet,  this 
moment,  under  the  table  as  I  write  !  Not  a  soul  but 
myself  in  the  house  !  Say  nothing  to  the  maid  of  the 
robber.  If  I  fall  a  victim  to  his  greed  in  her  absence, 
God  have  mercy  upon  me !  Heaven  speed  you  to 
the  rescue. 

ELISE  ARCHER. 

"I  will  be  back  in  ten  minutes,  my  iady,  for  I  am 
fearing  to  leave  you  alone." 


THE  JEWELS.  $o 

Elise  tried  to  smile  and  said — "  Fly,  then,  my  good 
Bertha — love  lends  wings,  you  know." 

Now  indeed  was  the  crisis  of  her  fate.  She  had 
not  stopped  to  consider  the  wisdom  of  the  action,  but 
followed  the  guiding  impulse  as  it  rose  and  fell,  for 
thought  and  execution  had  been  simultaneous  pro- 
cesses-. Now,  however,  in  this  interval,  «he  had  time 
for  reflection.  She  questioned  whether  her  course 
had  been  prudent,  for  now  she  was  completely  at  the 
mercy  of  the  wretch  at  her  feet,  should  he  seize  this 
opportunity  to  snatch  his  prize.  She  knew  that  her 
motive  had  been  to  tempt  him  with  a  larger  bait, 
although  at  the  moment  she  did  not  recognize  it,  and 
she  still  hoped  that  on  Ids  part  he  was  meditating 
no  violence,  no  denouement,  but  quietly  waiting  for 
the  midnight  hour,  when,  as  they  were  hushed  in 
sleep,  he  might  secure  and  make  way  with  his  booty. 

"  Or  perhaps,  after  all,"  she  reasoned,  "  his  ambi- 
tion is  only  for  the  table  silver.  Oh !  how  gladly  I 
would  give  it !  "  and  debated  whether  she  should  not 
make  the  proposition  to  him.  But  her  courage  did 
not  rise  to  tjie  occasion,  and  she  doubted,  too,  its  pro- 
priety. Her  nerves  were  now  wrought  up  to  the 
highest  pitch,  and  it  seemed  as  though  she  should  die 
with  the  strain.  Every  moment  was  an  age,  every 
breath  of  wind  sent  the  stagnant  blood  back  in  great 
floods  to  her  heart,  every  sound  beat  upon  her  ear 
like  a  trumpet — yet  still  she  sat  there  like  a  marble 
statue,  idly  fingering  her  gems,  with  a  show  of  ab- 
sorbed occupation. 

Her  head  became  dizzy,  her  brain  numb — "  Oh 
God  !  "  she  thought,  "if  I  faint  I  am  ruined,  for  then 
I  will  be  in  his  power  !  Why  does  she  tarry  so  long?" 
She  glanced  at  her  watch — three  minutes  more  to 
wait — could  she  endure  the  suspense,  the  crushing 
strain?  But  now  she  heard  the  cheery  sound  of 
steps  in  the  distance,  and  felt  that  her  deliverance 
was  at  hand.  "But  oh,  they  must  be  so  cautious  !  " 
she  thought,  "for  he  might  fire  and  kill  us  all," 

She  heard  Bertha  mount  the  steps — 


96  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"Mr.  Burton  brought  them  himself,  my  lady,  and 
he  is  just  outside  waiting  your  permission  to  enter." 

"  Very  well,  Bertha,"  Elise  tried  to  say  calmly, 
but  her  voice  was  so  low  and  indistinct  that  Bertha 
hesitated.  Fearing  that  her  agitation  might  have 
been  perceived,  she  spoke  again,  with  a  sharp  reso- 
nance. 

"•  Certainly,  Bertha,  I  am  very  glad  he  came,  as  I 
wish  to  consult  him  about  some  work  he  is  doing  for 
me." 

Mr.  Barton  entered,  and  now  Elise  felt  assured 
that  there  was  no  escape  for  the  robber.  She  did 
not  know  what  plan  Mr.  Barton  had  set  on  foot  to 
arrest  him  ;  she  felt  so  relieved  to  shift  the  responsi- 
bility of  the  capture  upon  stronger  and  abler  hands 
that  she  could  let  him  take  his  own  time. 

So  they  chatted  of  her  jewels  and  the  necessary 
repairs  and  readjustments,  cleansing  and  polishing, 
and  Mr.  Barton  discovered  so  many  irregularities 
that  he  concluded  to  take  most  of  them  back  with 
him. 

Elise  assented  to,  everything,  satisfied  .that  he  was 
playing  his  game  wisely,  which  "  assurance  became 
doubly  sure "  when  two  gens  cTarmes  entered  the 
room  and  quickly  and  adroitly  dragged  the  prisoner 
from  his  snug  shelter,  before  the  blazing  lights. 

"  This  is  the  first  tramp,  Miss  Archer,  that  has  ever 
been  seen  upon  our  river,"  Mr.  Barton  whispered  as 
he  gently  led  her  from  the  room. 

But  Elise  mused,  "  This  is  my  April  happening !  " 


DID  Silt!  MEAN?  9? 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT  DID  SHE  MEAN  ? 

"WlLL  you  wear  your  opals  with  it,  Elise?"  in- 
quired Mrs.  Healey  as  they  were  examining  the  Greek 
costume  just  arrived  from  Paris.  "  They  will  fit  it 
beautifully,  unless,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "you  think 
the  effect  would  be  a  little  too  prononce  for  the 
fond  Alcestis  character.  But  I  am  not  very  familiar 
with  her  history,  and  leave  it  to  you  entirely.  I  would 
not  wish  to  decide." 

"  But  there  was  also  a  royal  dignity  about  her  that 
thought  itself  not  unworthy  every  personal  adorn- 
ment. The  opals  are  in  antique  settings,  I  suppose 
you  have  observed,  and  of  a  style  that  belongs  to  this 
very  period  of  Grecian  art — so  at  least  Cesnola  in- 
formed me,  after  a  careful  examination." 

"  Charming  !  How  well  they  will  complete  the  cos- 
tume! They  are  becoming,  too,"  Lily  said,  clasping 
on  the  necklace,  to  catch  the  effect  upon  the  face. 

"  I  am  never  so  happy  as  when  wearing  the  dear, 
precious  stones,"  Elise,  said  gathering  them  into  a 
confused  heap  and  pressing  them  to  her  bosom,  while 
gently  passing  her  fingers  over  their  polished  faces. 
"To  me,  Lily,  they  are  the  epitome  of  love,  parents, 
home,  and  sisters.  I  never  look  into  their  dancing 
eyes  without  feeling  a  new  devotion  to  the  memory 
of  the  lost  ones.  Every  hue  reflects  a  joy,  every 
diamond-flash  a  past  exhilaration,  every  sparkle  a 
love-message.  It  is  a  veritable  rosary — quite  ortho- 
dox, Lil,  don't  look  so  alarmed — for  here  are  strung 
in  a  shining  row  all  the  blessings  of  my  childhood, 
chief  of  which  I  count  my  mother's  blessing  and 


98  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

prayers,  and  these,  I  assure  you,  are  more  sacred  to 
me  than  those  of  any  long-robed  priest  with  his  mum- 
bles and  genuflections." 

She  shook  the  folds  out  of  the  lace  and  satin  and 
finest  cashmere  mystery  (chiton,  peplum,  and  veil  all 
complete)  held  it  out  at  arm's  iength  and  mechani- 
cally set  it  a-going  in  the  motions  of  the  Greek  dance 
— but  her  thoughts  were  not  on  the  dress. 

Stopping  abruptly,  she  exclaimed :  "  What  could 
that  creature  have  meant  who  accosted  me  at  the 
station  just  before  I  went  to  Europe?"  And  she 
stood  in  deep  thought. 

"  Beg  pardon,"  said  Lily,  after  a  suitable  interval 
had  elapsed  for  the  speaker  to  throw  a  little  more  light 
on  the  subject,  "did  y^ii  ask  me  a  question?"  And 
then,  as  there  was  no  response  from  Elise,  she  rat- 
tled on  :  "I  couldn't  think  of  telling  you  until  I  knew 
whether  the  creature  was  savage  or  civilized,  male  or 
female,  black  or  white,  or  have  at  least  a  few  acces- 
sories to  the  picture." 

"  And  you  are  wiser  than  I  think,  if  you  interpret 
her  then,  for  it  was  a  female,  Lil,  a  nondescript,  gypsy- 
like  somebody  with  a  baby.  A  select  party  of  my 
friends  made  up  an  escort  to  the  station,  and  as  we 
waited  there,  we  chatted  idly  on  this  and  that,  for- 
getful or  rather  indifferent  to  the  secret  or  spoken 
comment  of  on-lookers.  You  know  how  it  is  at  such 
times  ;  you  fancy  that  there  is  a  security  in  numbers, 
which  will  disarm  criticism,  and  that  buoyancy  of 
animal  spirits  is  as  propitiatory  as  it  is  contagious. 
Well,  I  suppose  that  my  opals  must  have  been  men- 
tioned, and  I  know  that  I  told  Helen  Fronde  that  I 
was  born  in  October,  for  she  and  I  were  discussing 
our  ages,  and  had  to  come  out  with  the  records  to  settle 
the  question. 

"The  bell  rang,  the  door  opened,  and  the  buttoned 
and  Libelled  official  who  takes  the  responsibility  of 
'speeding  the  parting  guest'  popped  his  head  in  the 
door,  and  called  out:  '  All  aboa.rd  for  New  York  ! ' 
and  we  started. 


WHAT  DID  SUE  MEAN?  99 

"  I  had  made  just  two  steps  forward,  when  some  one 
pushed  hard  against  me,  and  on  turning1  to  look  at 
the  transgressor,  I  heard,  coming  from  the  mouth 
of  this  same  fantastic  and  uncouth  compound  I  was 
telling  you  about,  with  an  expression  all  aghast  as 
she  said  it,  and  the  poor,  pitiful  baby  with  its  face 
all  drawn  up  just  ready  for  chromatics: 

"  '  You  were  born  in  October  ?  And  you  wear 
opals  ! ' 

"  Of  course  I  simply  stared  at  her  for  a  second,  and 
then  turned  my  head  away.  She  did  not  speak  loud, 
just  in  a  tone  between  a  hiss  and  a  groan. 

"Mr.  Elvard,  perceiving  me  trembling  on  his  arm, 
inquired  if  I  was  ill.  I  assured  him  that  nothing 
was  the  matter,  and  in  the  pleasant  excitements  of 
our  travel  abroad  I  forgot  the  incident  for  a  long 
time,  and  then  all  at  once  it  came  to  me  with  fright- 
ful distinctness,  and  ever  since  those  two  apparently 
chance  interrogatories  lie  down  deep  within  me  like 
a  weird,  n^sterious  melody  to  which  all  my  life  is 
the  accompaniment."  What  could  she  have  meant, 
and  what  business  had  anybody  to  insinuate  danger 
or  impropriety?  You  needn't  laugh,  Lily.  I  am 
sorry  if  there's  anything  bad  about  it,  but  I  am  as 
helpless  in  the  one  case  as  the  other.  I  vowed  the 
night  mamma  put  the  opals  on  my  neck  that  I  would 
defy  the  superstition,  and  so  impatient  was  I  with 
ignorance  and  folly,  when  this  incident  that  I  have 
been  relating  came  to  me  again  that  day  in  Nice,  I 
declared  I  would  defy  the  October  business,  too!  " 

"  Bravo  !  "  shouted  Lilian.  "Yon  will  'live  above 
it,'  I  suppose,  .as  Doctor  in  the  easy  cant  of  health 
sublimely  advises  me  to  do  with  my  headaches,  and 
'break  up  the  chain  of  morbid  action  ! '' 

"That  shaft  was  well  aimed,  Lil,  and  hurts  more 
than  you  think." 

Lily  protested. 

"Of  course  you  are  surprised,  and  you  will  be  still 
more  so  when  I  tell  you  that  I  actually  closeted  my- 
self with  the  Sisters  for  six  months  to  try  and  '  break 


100  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

up  that  chain  of  morbid  action  '  you  so  jestingly  allude 
to,  totally  unsuspicious  that  your  Elise  ever  had  any 
of  its  links  around  her — was  indeed  fast  in  the 
stocks !" 

kk  Oh  !  Elise  !  "  cried  Lily  in  a  tone  of  pitiful  con- 
demnation. 

"•  Well,  that  is  hyperbole  I  admit,  but  perhaps  you 
will  not  wonder  or  think  me  weak  when  you  have 
heard  the  whole  story." 

"  Poor  darling  !  "  said  Lilian,  quickly  relenting — 
'•  why  should  I  doubt  your  courage  !  " 

"  Yes,  poor  me  !  to  be  involved  in  such  a  mysterious 
net.  If  I  were  a  Mahommedan  heathen,  I  should  say 
'/ate,'  Lil." 

"  Where  is  the  mystery?  Are  you  then  a  convert 
to  the  superstition?" 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  fighting  it,  battling  with  it  still,  and 
I  am  not  discouraged  or  daunted,  much  less  crushed — 
but  I  am  bewildered — mystified  ! — the  seasons  come 
and  go  so  fast  that  I  seem  to  be  perpetually  dodg- 
ing, but  I  never  avert  my  fate  !  My  life  so  far  has 
been  an  enigma,  and  I  verily  believe — now  mark  me, 
for  I  am  speaking  deliberately — that  the  up  and  down 
beats  in  its  music  will  strike  hardest  in  the  future 
just  as  in  the  past,  in  the  months  of  October  and 
April !  I  cannot  explain  it,  Lily,  but  you  will  see  that 
it  will  inevitably  be  so.  Sometimes  I  feel  like  the 
old  Greeks  in  the  Trojan  horse,  girt  about  with  sworn 
enemies  with  glittering  swords  and  fiery  tongues,  and 
I  dare  not  so  much  as  peep  out  for  fear  a  plot  may 
burst  upon  me.  Of  course  that  is  an  exaggerated 
figure,  and  you  must  make  allowances  for  my  vivid 
imagination,"  she  added,  laughing.  ' 

'*  It  is  a  pretty,  blue-vaulted,  star-gemmed  canopy 
inside  that '  horse  '  then,  you  dear  child,  or  you  could 
never  be  so  sunnjV  interrupted  Lilian. 

"But  there  are  times  and  times — you  know,  Lil." 

Lily  was  quiet  for  a  moment  and  then  added, 
reflectively,  "  Isn't  there  just  a  tinge  of  superstition, 
Elise,  that  it  is  your  duty  to  uproot?  " 


WHAT  DID  SHE  MEAN  ?  101 

"  You  cannot  be  more  imperative  in  your  advice, 
Lily,  than  I  have  been  with  myself,  and  I  have  been 
faithful  to  duty,  but  I  have  also  been  observant  of 
providences  and  times  and  seasons.  It  does  not  fos- 
ter doubt  in  me,  because  I  seem  to  see  this  plan  as  a 
part  of  a  harmonious  whole — although  it  is  not  in 
accord  with  my  sensibilities — and  what  comes  to 
others  irregularly  comes  to  me  with  the  stated  pre- 
cision of  the  equinoxes.  It  is  no  doubt  very  beauti- 
ful in  its  absolute  design,  but  not  in  harmony  with 
my  personal  predilections,  and  so  cannot  be  very  beau- 
tiful to  me. 

"  Channing  said,  when  I  was  telling  him  about  it, 
that  it  gave  my  life  the  '  air  of  a  perpetual  romance' 
— he  did  not  seem  to  blame  me." 

"  And  what  remark  did  Dresson  make?"  inquired 
Lily,  who  had  noticed  of  late  a  tendency  in  Elise  to 
quote  Channing. 

"Otto!  Why,  I  don't  think  I  have  said  anything 
to  Otto  about  it,"  she  answered  slowly,  paused,  and 
then  added  with  a  gay  nonchalance  as  though  she 
had  taught  herself  to  think  his  indifference  quite  the 
correct  thing: 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  Otto  cares  how  the  heart  of 
me  goes,  he  is  abundantly  content  with  the  surface 
ripples ! " 

"  Well,  dear.  I  know  just  the  thing  for  our  nerves 
noiv,  and  that  is  a  good,  brisk,  breezy  walk  to  Sun- 
set Hill — so  no  more  moody  fancies  for  the  present." 

"  But  I  am  not  moody,  Lil." 

"  But  the  fancies  are,  Elise.  I  admit  that  you  seem 
to  soar  above  them  and  from  a  serene  height  look 
down  upon  them  as  belongings  that  ought  to  be 
foreign  to  you,  but  for  all  that,  such  thoughts  are 
not  nourishing  to  healthv  purpose — you  will  acknowl- 
edge that,  Elise  ?  " 

"  I  agree  with  you  now,  and  always,  Lily,  dear," 
she  said,  embracing  her.  "  Command  me  for  a  walk 
or  what  not — be  my  sweet  mentor  and  guardian  as 
you  were  in  the  auld  lang  syne — I'm  twent}r-six, 


102  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

Lil,  but  I  need  as  much  as  then  your  sisterly  over- 
sight; this  time  for  my  mind,  Lil,  which  sometimes 
gets  on  the  '  rampage,' "  she  added,  brightly. 

She  referred  to  the  time  when  Lily  had  been  eyes 
to  her  and  feet  for  her,  in  the  days  when  she  had 
only  that  little  pitiful  vision. 


CHILDHOOD  DAYS.  103 


CHAPTER  XL 

SKETCH    I — CHILDHOOD    DAYS. 

THAT  the  reader  may  better  appreciate  Miss  Arch- 
er's feelings  and  understand  her  idiosyncrasy  with 
regard  to  there  being  two  pivotal  months  upon  which 
her  destiny  turned,  it  will  be  necessary  to  relate  some 
incidents  in  her  previous  history.  In  "  Once  a  Year" 
there  is  an  account  of.  one  summer  of  her  life,  and  a 
few  sketches  will  now  be  added.  These  few  marked 
incidents  are  naturally  impressive,  but  would  not  of 
themselves  have  been  sufficient  to  give  color  to  the 
theory,  had  she  not  observed,  as  time  went  on,  that 
semi-annually  in  her  history  there  was  a  climax  to 
some  more  or  less  important  event.  And  yet  at  this 
stage  of  her  life  she  could  not  be  said  to  be  in  any 
sort  on  the  watch  or  making  calculations,  either  with 
desire  or  dread,  upon  this  unique  regularity  in  the 
distribution  of  her  life  epochs.  For  the  most  part 
the  coincidence  would  come  to  her  retrospectively, 
and  it  was  with  a  certain  shy  curiosity  mingled  with 
an  inward  protest  and  some  vague  misgivings — not 
fear,  for  that  was  alien  to  her  nature — that  she  grad- 
ually noted  these  singular  markings,  and  began  at 
last  to  yield  a  kind  of  tacit,  reluctant  consent  to  the 
idea  that  there  was  such  an  arrangement  in  the  order- 
ing of  her  life-plan. 

A  little  group  sat  by  the  fireside  listening  to  the 
father's  pleasant  stories  of  travel,  after  several  months' 
absence  from  home.  Among  other  events  of  interest 
Avas  the  account  of  his  visit  to  an  astrologer,  who  at 
Mr.  Archer's  request  had  cast  the  horoscopes  of  each 
member  of  the  family.  Mary  and  Belle  were  bending 


104  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

over  these  papers,  and  regarding  with  curious  inter- 
est the  singular  characters  traced  so  delicately  and 
precisely  in  red  and  black  ink,  and  covered  with  mys- 
terious symbols,  while  the  lather  explained  the  differ- 
ent "  houses,"  and  when  they  would  enter  each  in 
their  journey  through  life.  To  their  comprehension, 
it  was  little  more  than  a  jargon  of  familiar  astronomi- 
cal terms,  combined  with  some  that  were  very  abstruse 
or  to  them  unknown,  in  which  were  confusedly  blended 
"conjunction,"  "aspect"  of  the  planet  (now  "sextile," 
now  "  trine"),  "  astrolabe,"  "  e  ccentricity,"  "  aphelion  " 
and  "  opposition  "  ;  only  this  was  clear  to  them,  that, 
according  to  astrology,  their  destiny  depended  upon 
the  relative  position  of  the  planets  at  their  birth. 

With  an  equal  obscurity  was  the  life  itself  pre- 
sented. The  girls  were  anxious  to  know  when  they 
were  to  be  married,  every  other  wish  was  subordinate 
to  that.  But  the  father  seemed  not  to  heed  their 
eagerness  ;  either  desirous  of  expounding  the  art  in  a 
methodical  way,  or  for  some  special  reason  unwilling 
to  gratify  their  curiosity,  he  continued  to  delineate 
their  passage  through  the  different  "  houses,"  gravely 
spoke  of  wealth  and  rank,  sickness,  friends,  enemies, 
and  the  "  upper  portal." 

"  '  Upper  portal  ? '  That's  death,  is  it,  papa  ?  Well, 
we  don't  care  about  that,  but  when  am  /to  be  mar- 
ried ?"  inquired  a  bright,  rosy  girl,  the  pet  and  joy  of 
the  household,  looking  up  from  the  saucer  of  beads 
over  which  her  head  was  bent  while  busying  herself 
with  a  fringe  for  her  toilet-cushion.  And  as  her 
papa  did  not  immediately  reply,  she  repeated,  "Say, 
papa,  when  am  I  to  be  married?" 

The  father  turned  over  his  paper,  muttered  some- 
thing half  audible,  about  "  conjunction  with  Mars  in 
October  and  April,"  and  replied,  drawing  his  daughter 
fondly  to  him  and  laying  her  head  upon  his  breast, 
"You,  my  daughter, are  to  be  a  great  traveller." 

The  child  clapped  her  hands  with  delight,  and  cry- 
ing, "  Oh  !  I'm  so  glad,"  slipped  down  again  to  her 
work. 


CHILDHOOD  DA  YS.  105 

She  did  not  notice  in  her  childish  innocence  that 
her  father  had  not  answered  her  question,  or  perhaps 
quietly  took  the  declaration  as  the  alternative  of 
marriage  subject  to  her  own  choice  and  convenience  ; 
to  her  mind,  as  she  was  in  the  midst  of  the  institution 
and  surrounded  by  its  benefits  and  delights,  marriage 
was  as  much  a  fiat  as  birth  itself — not  one  of  the 
possibilities,  but  one  of  the  inevitables. 

It  seemed  reasonable  that  she  should  also  be  a 
great  traveller  and  go  alone  if  she  wished,  but  lying 
in  shadowy  vagueness  was  the  outline  of  a  protect- 
ing husband,  as  a  matter  of  course  and  of  necessity. 
Young  as  she  was,  she  put  no  faith  in  the  prophecy, 
for  her  religious  convictions  were  strong,  and  she 
knew  that  there  was  no  truth  in  astrology — that  it 
was  all  foolish  conjecture,  jumbles  of  ancient  lore 
and  possible  or  probable  futurities,  the  fruit,  in  this 
age,  of  some  mercenary  mind.  Her  mother  had  so 
taught  her ;  •  had  explained  to  her  that  it  was  once 
cultivated  with  the  honest  belief  that  there  was  some 
connection  between  the  position  and  movements  of 
the  planets  and  the  habits  and  pursuits  of  those  born 
under  them,  but  that  nothing  had  been  really  accom- 
plished by  it,  even  in  its  palmiest  days,  in  the  way  of 
divination,  and  that  astronomical  discoveries  had  ex- 
ploded its  notions  and  reduced  it  to  the  level  of  a 
delusive  aiwl  forgotten  science. 

Her  father  did  not  contradict  this,  but  while  he 
acknowledged  it  to  be  nonsense,  it  had  a  strange 
fascination  for  him,  and  he  permitted  himself  the 
weak  indulgence  of  gratifying  his  curiosity  for  the 
mysteries  of  the  future,  by  studying  it  when  a  good 
opportunity  presented. 

The  little  interlocutor,  still  stringing  her  beads, 
was  called  "  Sunbeam,"  on  account  of  her  win- 
some sprightliness  and  uniform  elasticity  of  spirits. 
The  day  had  yet  to  be  marked  in  the  calendar  that  did 
not  shine  with  her  vivacity  and  sweet  amiability,  and 
the  family  thought  no  group  complete  without  the 
bright  presence  of  their  fairy  "  Sunbeam." 


106  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

And  so  when  later  in  the  evening  the  mother 
brought  in  her  casket  of  magnificent  opals  (embrac- 
ing a  complete  set  of  those  brilliant  stones  interlaced 
with  diamonds,  including  the  tiara  and  necklace),  de- 
claring that  for  some  reason  she  felt  inclined  to  make 
an  assignment  of  the  valuable  heirloom,  this  very  even- 
ing, to  one  of  her  daughters,  the  unanimous  choice 
fell  upon  "  Sunbeam." 

"But,  Mary,"  remonstrated  "  Sunbeam,"  "you  are 
the  oldest." 

"  But  you  are  the  brightest,  little  witch,  and  they 
will  become  your  iridescence,"  interrupted  Mary. 

"But  Belle  is  brilliant ;  see  her  red  cheeks  and 
flashing  eyes !"  said  "Sunbeam."  "I  am  sure  she 
would  set  them  off." 

"  Thank  you,  dear,  but  I  want  you  to  have  them 
because  they  are  in  harmony  with  your  birth. 
October  is  the  opal  month,  you  know,  and  so  they 
naturally  belong  to  you;  Mother  Nature  must  have 
designed  them  for  you  ;  and  then,  to  tell  the  truth, 
if  you  wished  to  give  me  a  bushel  of  the  finest  opals 
in  the  world  I  would  not  accept  them  as  a  gift !  " 

"  Why,  my  daughter  ! "  exclaimed  the  mother,  "  are 
you  so  tinctured  with  superstition?  These  opals 
have  been  in  our  family  for  four  generations,  and  a 
more  happy  and  honorable  family  in  all  its  connec- 
tions than  the  Merediths  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find." 

"What  is  it,  mamma?"  inquired  "Sunbeam," 
"  what  is  the  superstition  ?  " 

The  mother  glanced  at  the  horoscopes  on  the  cen- 
ter-table and  then  said,  "Why,  father!  did  you  show 
the  girls  these?"  Having  entered  with  the  fixed 
purpose  in  her  mind  of  parting  with  the  jewels,  she 
had  not  observed  the  occupation  of  the  group,  and 
seemed  for  a  moment  bewildered ;  then  she  said 
calmly : 

"  It  is  a  little  strange  that  two  superstitions  should 
cross  each  other  to-night.  I  thought  you  had  forgot- 
ten or  given  up  all  your  astrological  predilections  and 


CHILDHOOD  DAYS.  107 

fancies,  Gerald, — I  hope  you  have  not  been  inoculat- 
ing these  girls  with  any  of  that  foolish  venom." 

Upon  the  general  and  spontaneous  outcry  from  the 
children,  that  the  father  had  insisted  upon  it  that  no 
credence  must  be  placed  in  it,  she  said: 

"  I  should  have  known  it,  but  the  surprise  of  this 
conjunction  of  affairs,  bewildered  me,  unsettled  my 
confidence  for  an  instant.  They  say,  'Sunbeam' 
(and  this  is  that  ubiquitous  and  omniscient  they  that 
never  makes  mistakes,  you  know)  that  the  opal  is  the 
harbinger  of  an  unequal  fortune  to  its  possessor  ;  her 
life  will  not  be  enriched  with  a  calm,  steady  flow  of 
blessings,  but  with  leapings  like  a  cascade  from  ledge 
to  ledge ;  and  sometimes  it  will  be  stagnant  like  a  pond 
without  an  outlet ; — that  the  one  who  wears  them 
will  be  subject  to  great  vicissitudes  in  life,  trials — 
some  great  trials,  and  heavy  disasters — with  only 
flashes  here  and  there  of  the  rosy  life  that  young  girls 
love  to  picture  as  their  natural  inheritance  and  un- 
disputed destiny." 

"  Oh  !  1  am  not  afraid  !  "  said  the  brave  child.  "If 
Mary  and  Belle  really  don't  want  them,  and  you 
really  wish  to  dispose  of  them,  mamma,  I  will  take 
them ;  but  don't  you  think  you'll  be  sorry,  mamma 
dear?"  she  said  twining 'her  arms  about  her  mother's 
neck.  "  Then  I'll  take  the  opals  and  I'll  wear  them 
too  I  Just  as  if  any  mischief  could  be  in  these"  beauti- 
ful gems !  "  she  said,  gently  caressing  the  long  pen- 
dants that  lay  in  dazzling  beauty  upon  her  snowy 
neck. 

"  Mamma,  won't  you  be  proud  of  me  if  I  defy  the 
superstition  ?  " 

"  More  than  proud,  my  brave  daughter,  because  it 
will  prove  that  yon  have  what  I  trust  you  will  show 
in  your  life,  a  well  regulated  faith  in  Christian  prin- 
ciples; and  these  teach  that  there  is  a  loving  Father 
who  orders  the  events  of  our  lives,  and  never  yet  has 
He  intrusted  that  oversight  to  the  Opal!" 

But  the  father  did  not  smile. 


108  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

Two.weeks  from  that  hour,  the  family  were  gathered 
around  the  bedside  of  the  dying  "  Sunbeam."  The 
light  was  fading,  flickering — it  must  soon  go,  the 
despairing  ones  said. 

Malignant  scarlet  fever  raging  in  epidemic  form 
through  the  town  was  taking  for  its  first  victim  the 
beautiful  young  child. 

But  when  the  morning  dawned,  life  was  still  feebly 
holding  on,  and  fluttering  hope  was  in  flattering  as- 
cendancy once  more  in  their  hearts.  The  days  wore 
on  in  anxious  vigilance  while  every  hour  was  weighted 
with  tender  solicitude  and  earnest  pra}-er  for  the 
loved  one's  life.  And  their  prayer  was  answered. 
Life  conquered  at  last  in  that  supreme  struggle,  but 
when  the  crisis  was  past  and  the  throbbings  of  a  new 
vitality  quickened  her  pulse,  she  could  not  see  the 
opal  splendors  of  that  glorious  October  day — "  Sun- 
beam "  was  blind  ! 

The  months  glided  on,  and  Elise,  pale  and  fragile 
— she  was  too  wan  for  a  sunbeam  now  and  had  crept 
back  into  her  christened  name — was  still  the  pet  of 
the  house,  tenderly  cared  for  by  all,  living  in  the  midst 
of  a  generous  rivalry  of  ministry  to  her  wants  and 
pleasures. 

When  the  cold  March  winds  were  gone,  and  the 
bursting  buds  of  a  new  creation  gladdened  all  hearts 
with  the  hope  of  an  early  spring,  when  Nature  shook 
off  the  thraldom  of  winter — began  her  music  in  the 
air  and  her  painting  in  the  fields — and,  renouncing 
her  monochrome,  resumed  her  art  decorations  in 
variegated  colors,  Elise  was  invigorated  by  its  balm 
and  nourished  by  its  sunshine  ;  the  rose  returned  to 
her  cheek  and  the  ruby  to  her  lip,  and  with  a  faint 
vision,  just  one  step  beyond  blank  darkness,  she  grad- 
ually assumed  her  wonted  cheerfulness. 

But  now  the  mother's  overtaxed  powers  began  to 
droop.  Always  delicate,  the  feeble  constitution  could 
not  resist  the  strain  of  many  months,  and  she  faded 
and  fell  in  the  beautiful  spring  time — died  clasping 
Elise  in  her  arms  and  tenderly  moaning  as  if  in  clari- 


SCENE  OX  LAKE  ERIE.  109 

fied  vision  the  brilliant  darkness  of  the  child's  future 
burst  upon  her — 

"  My  Opal !  Oh  !  may  God  help  my  poor,  blind 
Opal !  " 

A  thrill  of  terror  ran  through  her  frame,  convulsed 
with  sobs  and  tears.  The  opals  ! — the  last  gift  of  love 
to  innocence  ! — they  were  lying  in  forgotten  grandeur 
in  the  drawer  to  which  she  had  consigned  them  the 
night  of  the  bestowal !  What  recalled  them  to  the 
mother's  memory  in  the  dying  hour?  And  wh}r,  in 
i he  baptism  of  the  cold,  cold  flood,  did  she  drop  the 
new  name  upon  her  darling? 

In  the  year  following  this  crushing  sorrow,  the 
father  and  both  daughters  followed  the  mother  to  an 
untimely  grave,  and  Elise,  stricken  and  helpless,  but 
with  a  boundless  fortune,  stood  alone  in  the  world. 

Oh  !  the  brilliant  darkness  !     Poor,  blind  Opal ! 


After  the  summer  at  M Springs,  where  Elise's 

vision  was  restored,  she  went  with  her  Uncle  and 
Aunt  Gray,  on  a  western  tour.  They  returned  by 
the  way  of  the  lakes  en  route  for  Canada. 

Leaving  their  steamer  at  Cleveland,  they  tarried  a 
few  days  in  that  umbrageous  city,  resplendent  with 
the  gorgeous  hues  of  the  late  October,  and  then  re- 
sumed their  passage  by  water  to  St.  Catharines  and 
other  Canadian  cities.  The  captain  of  the  propeller 
in  which  they  secured  places  was  especially  recom- 
mended to  them  as  a  skilful  navigator — a  model 
captain  with  twenty  years'  service  in  a  well  ordered 
career  for  his  record. 

The  evening  was  spent  on  deck  pleasantly  chatting 
and  laughing,  for  the  captain  had  a  fund  of  anecdotes 
of  a  refreshing  hydraulic  type  quite  novel  to  the  ladies 
of  the  part}'-.  They  sat  there  in  the  bright  starlight 
until  nearly  midnight  and  then  went  to  their  state- 
rooms. 

Elise  had  previously  discovered  a  queer  bit  of 
mechanism,  composed  of  square  pieces  of  cork  en- 


110  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

closed  in  canvass,  with  bands  and  strings  attached, 
which  answered  fairly  well  to  her  preconceived  ideas 
of  a  life-preserver.  Without  attempting  to  adjust  it 
upon  her  person  (being  in  that  state  of  easy  indiffer- 
ence to  imaginary  dangers  and  fears,  which  she  cul- 
tivated as  part  of  the  aesthetics  of  her  being),  for  all 
it  looked  so  enigmatical,  she  concluded  it  "  would 
work,"  and  no  doubt  be  highly  satisfactory  in  case  of 
need,  trusting  probably  to  instinct  or  direct  revela- 
tion for  the  management  of  it. 

She  had  just  removed  her  hat  and  was  about  to  un- 
fasten her  dress,  when  there  came  a  tremendous  crash 
which  shook  the  vessel  from  stem  to  stern,  jarring 
and  overturning  every  movable  object  on  board,  in- 
cluding .Elise,  who  was  violently  pitched  against  the 
window.  It  was  something  like  an  electric  shock 
in  its  effect  upon  the  nerves — she  was  jarred  but  not 
hurt. 

The  next  instant  Mrs.  Gray  came  to  the  door,  and 
in  a  voice  with  a  death-ring  in  it,  hoarsely  whispered, 
"  Elise,  they  say  we'll  go  down  in  five  minutes  !  "  and 
then,  above  the  confusion  and  uproar  of  the  shouting 
crew,  frantically  rushing  hither  and  thither  and  drag- 
ging ropes  over  the  deck,  flying  from  point  to  point 
to  try  to  stem  the  flood — above  all,  rose  that  fearful, 
soul-thrilling  cry,  appalling  in  the  stricken  hour 
when  life  hangs  in  the  balance — 

"  To  the  life-preservers  !  " 

Elise  had  grasped  hers  with  an  involuntary  motion 
when  her  aunt  first  spoke,  and  now  rushed  with  it 
— under  the  spell  of  that  instinctive  dread  of  meeting 
death  alone,  which  simultaneously  moved  all  the  pas- 
sengers- -into  the  cabin. 

Oh  !  the  trembling  group  collected  there  !  Pale 
faces,  and  ashen  lips  tightly  compressed,  deep  breath- 
ings, nervously  hurried  and  spasmodic  movements,  as 
each  one  essayed  to  panoply  himself  with  the  armor 
he  hoped  would  float  him  on  the  watery  deep — but 
not  a  sound  !  It  was  a  crushing,  momentous  stillness, 
big  with  hollow  whispers  from  the  grave.  And  when 


SCENE  OX  LAKE  ERIE.  Ill 

Mr.  Gray,  in  a  voice  clear,  but  vibrating  with  an 
emotion  just  perceptible  under  the  strong  control, 
dared  to  break  the  silence,  it  seemed  sacrilegious 
boldness, 

"  I  will  arrange  yours  for  yon,  Emily."  he  said,  see- 
ing his  wife's  helplessness,  "in  a  moment,  as  soon  as 
I  get  this  string  tied." 

"Ah,  me!  who  will  adjust  mine?"  Elise  was 
thinking,  for  in  that  supreme  hour  another  instinct, 
that  of  self-preservation,  was  uppermost  in  each  mind 
— when  there  came  floating  in  to  them  a  cheery 
sound — 

"The  immediate  danger  is  over!  " 

But  they  were  not  so  easily  satisfied,  and  knew  that 
this  message  was  designed  to  quiet  their  fears.  It 
did  relieve  the  tremendous  pressure  of  the  thought 
that  their  next  step  would  be  a  plunge  into  the  cold 
wave,  and  they  gathered  a  little  courage  to  ascertain 
the  extent  of  their  danger  and  damage.  The  cause 
was  patent  to  the  senses  without  proclamation — they 
had  collided  with  another  vessel. 

All  night  long  every  man  on  board  worked  dili- 
gently at  the  pumps,  and  in  calking  and  bailing — a 
night  between  two  eternities — the  boundless  over- 
arching heavens  above  and  the  boundless  waters 
beneath,  fitting  symbols  of  their  vastness  and  incom- 
prehensibility ! 

All  night  long  Mrs.  Gray  and  Elise  watched  and 
waited  and  hoped  and  feared.  What  an  agony  of 
suspense  !  They  were  told  that  they  were  not  far 
from  the  canal,  and  if  they  could  hold  their  own  until 
morning,  might  see  some  friendly  craft  that  would 
assist  them.  They  were  at  last  persuaded  to  take  a 
little  rest,  if  not  sleep,  and  when  after  a  few  uneasy 
snatches  of  slumber,  they  opened  their  eyes  upon  the 
gray  mist  of  the  morning,  they  discovered  that  they 
were  being  towed  along  by  a  staunch  vessel,  and  fast 
approaching  the  canal. 

"  We  can't  sink  in  the  canal,  you  know,"  the  cap- 
tain said,  by  way  of  encouragement. 


112  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

But  they  were  puzzled  to  know  how  it  was  possible 
for  such  an  accident  to  have  occurred  on  a  bright 
starlight  night.  It  seemed  incredible  that  any  hu- 
man being  could  be  so  hardened  as  to  deliberately 
initiate  and  recklessly  execute  a  diabolical  plan,  in 
which  the  lives  of  a  hundred  fellow  beings  would  be 
jeopardized — and  yet  it  was  rumored  among  the  pas- 
sengers that  jealousy  was  the  cause  of  the  disaster. 

The  first-mate  was  a  fine,  stalwart  fellow,  the  ad- 
miration of  the  crew.  The  second-mate  was  also  of 
commanding  physique,  but  of  an  ugly,  vicious  tem- 
per that  had  provoked  many  enemies,  and  he  was 
justly  disliked  by  all.  It  was  his  watch,  and  with 
consummate  baseness  and  malice  prepense,  he,  when 
close  beside  the  oncoming  vessel,  gave  an  order  which 
would  inevitably  produce  collision  and  engulf  one 
or  both  vessels,  in  the  boiling  waves  !  But  a  blessed 
Providence  averted  such  a  calamity. 

On  the  instant  preceding  the  shock,  the  captain, 
all  unconscious  of  danger,  was  moved  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  his  cabin  door ;  he  arrived  upon  the 
deck  in  the  perilous  moment,  countermanded  the 
fatal  words,  and  prevented  the  horrors  of  death  amid 
the  ruins  of  a  drowning  wreck. 

"If,"  said  he,  "the  point  of  collision  had  been  three 
feet  farther  away  from  the  stem,  nothing  under 
heaven  could  have  saved  us." 

The  second-mate  should  have  been  discharged  on 
the  instant,  but  his  villainy  was  not  then  quite  ap- 
parent— there  was  to  be  another  revelation. 

But  the  saddest  thing  of  all,  after  the  rescue  was 
tolerably  assured,  was  the  face  of  the  poor  captain. 
He  looked  death-struck--  so  haggard,  so  pale,  so  taci- 
turn, so  rigid  were  the  muscles  of  his  face — sternly 
saying,  while  they  endeavored  to  vindicate  him,  "It 
was  his  watch,  but  I  was  responsible" 

The  passengers  tried  to  convince  him  that  no  com- 
pany would  convict  him,  when  the  fault  was  so  pal- 
pably another's,  and  that  he  would  be  exonerated 
from  blame.  But  again  and  again  the  dejected  man 


SCENE  ON  LAKE  ERIE.  113 

would  reply  with  a  shake  of  the  old  head,  grown  gray 
in  the  service,  "  I was  responsible" 

As  he  was  making  up  his  log  next  day,  Elise  said, 
"  Is  that  the  first  accident  it  has  been  your  misfor- 
tune to  record,  captain  ?  " 

"  The  first,  Miss  Archer,  in  twenty-five  years." 

"Surely  they  (the  owners)  will  consider  all  that 
in  making  their  decision  in  the  case,  and  give  you 
compensatory  justice — justice  tempered  with  mercy." 

But  a  silent  shake  of  the  head  was  his  only  reply. 

Slowly  they  floated  along  until  they  entered,  with 
•thankful  hearts,  the  safe  waters  of  the  Welland. 

Elise  and  her  aunt,  scarcely  recovered  from  the 
nervous  anxiety  attending  the  collision,  and  the  long 
strain  of  suspense  before  reaching  the  canal,  were  in 
that  excited  state  of  apprehension  that  exaggerated 
every  danger,  and  made  it  possible  to  their  fears  to 
sink  even  in  twelve  feet  of  water.  But  there  was  a 
diversion  in  the  hubbub  into  which  they  were  now 
precipitated,  that  Mr.  Gray  declared  equal  in  dramatic 
interest  to  the  best  features  of  the  Stock  Exchange. 

A  crowd  of  steamers  and  swarms  of  smaller  craft 
were  moving,  snail-like,  in  the  same  or  opposite  direc- 
tions, to  the  accompaniment  of  vociferatory,  yelling, 
tangled  voices,  the  clatter  of  dragging  ropes  and 
clanking  irons,  the  rushing  of  many  impetuous  feet 
hither  and  yon,  in  what  to  the  uninitiated  seemed 
dire  confusion — each  vessel  struggling  like  a  sentient 
being  to  make  its  passage — with  next  to  no  space  to 
do  it  in ! 

They  were  sitting  on  deck  near  the  pilot-house, 
curiously  observant  of  the  novel  scene. 

" '  The  mountain  labored  and  brought  forth  a 
mouse  ! '  "  said  Elise.  u  What  a  contradiction  of  ex- 
pectation !  With  all  the  fuss  and  flurry  and  the,  no 
doubt,  purposeful  activity  of  this  whole  crew,  we  do 
not  make  one  step  in  the  advance." 

"  Do  see  the  steamers  pass  right  by  us  and  go 
through  !  "  she  cried  to  her  uncle.  "  What  does  it 
mean?  Are  we  on  a- sandbar?"  Mr.  Gray  smiled  at 


114  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

this  ignorance,  but  confessed  himself  unable  to  solve 
the  enigma. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  entrance  of  the  canal,  the 
captain  had  pushed  on,  by  land,  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  repairs  at  St.  Catharines.  '  The  first-mate, 
now  acting-captain,  issued  and  reissued  a  certain 
command  with  a  wearisome  repetition  : 

"  Throw  out  that  stern  line  !  " 

Hearing  his  order  so  often  reiterated,  their  thoughts 
began  to  center  with  a  certain  lively  interest  upon 
the  trifling  item  of  a  stern  line,  for  apparently  either 
the  order  was  not  heeded — although  the  running  and 
hauling  were  sufficiently  vocal  to  float  a  hundred 
stern  lines,  one  would  think — or  an  indefinite  number 
were  required  for  their  transit.  But  then  again  the 
emphasis  of  the  singular  that,  precluded  that  suppo- 
sition ;  so  they  gave  it  up  and  sat  silent  and  per- 
plexed. 

But  now  the  patience  of  the  temporary  captain 
was  exhausted.  They  had  indeed  caught  angry  mut- 
te rings,  at  intervals,  slightly  flavored  with  impreca- 
tions, but  now  there  came  a  fearful  oath,  coupled 
with  the  threat — 

"I'll  go  down  and  pick  the  head  right  off  him  ! " 

"  It's  that  second  mate  again,"  whispered  Mr.  Gray. 

And  the  man  started,  with  the  tiger  in  his  eye,  and 
the  springing  motion  of  a  wild  beast  about  to  leap 
upon  his  prey.  He  rushed  past  them  to  the  gang- 
way. 

Elise  was  at  that  moment  so  impressed  by  the  mag- 
netism of  a  justly  indignant  human  rage,  that  pick- 
ing oft7  people's  heads  seemed  as  logical  and  easy  as 
in  the  days  of  the  mythical  Hercules,  and  indeed 
quite  a  natural  and  proper  thing  to  do  under  the 
provocation  ;  but  at  the  same  time  so  criminal  and 
ghastly  with  its  accompanying  terrors,  that  moved 
by  a  sudden  impulse  born  of  heaven  to  try  to  pre- 
vent bloodshed  by  her  puny  voice—  or  she  knew  not 
how — she  sped  on  irresistibly  after  the  infuriated 
man.  And  as  if  to  stamp  the  act  with  the  sanction 


SCENE  AT  ALPNACH.  115 

of  wisdom  and  authority,  Mrs.  Gray,  following 
equally  her  benevolent  instincts,  cried  out  with  wild 
unreasoning  fervor. 

"  Don't  let  him  go,  Elise  !  Don't  let  him  kill  him  !  " 

Girded  with  superhuman  nerve,  Elise  just  reached 
the  gangway  as  the  mate  was  at  the  bottom  of  the 
steps.  She  instantly  stooped,  and  reaching  low,  laid 
her  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  The  gentle  touch  ar- 
rested him — he  turned  and  confronted  the  pleading 
face. 

"  Look  here  !  We  think  too  much  of  you  to  have  you 
do  that  /"  she  said  in  a  voice  of  thrilling  earnestness. 

"  To  have  you  do  that  !  "  Soul  searches  soul  at  such 
pregnant  moments,  and  the  ireful  man  well  knew  the 
forceful  meaning  of  the  enigmatical  word. 

He  glanced  again  at  the  pure  sweet  shining  in  her 
eyes,  and  one  shade  of  anger  lifted  from  his  brow — • 
but  he  rushed  on. 

The  suspense  was  terrible.  Intently  listening  for 
direful  sounds,  they  heard  no  scuffling,  no  uproar, 
and  when  in  a  few  moments  he  returned,  he  said 
quietly  in  passing  them — the  face  all  calm  now — 

"I  discharged  him." 

"  He  that  ruleth  his  own  spirit  is  better  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city,"  commented  Mr.  Gray. 

"  What  a  beautiful  control !  "  Elise  whispered  to 
her  aunt. 

And  the  stern  line  was  thrown  out.  There  were 
no  more  tugging  and  higgling  and  useless  veerings  ; 
order  was  restored,  and  they  passed  on  through  the 
lock. 


The  Grays  and  Elise  were  abroad. 

England  had  been  a  microcosm  of  quaint  and 
happy  surprises,  France  a  whirl  of  aesthetic  delight, 
Brussels  an  instructive  chapter  in  Renaissance,  the 
Rhine  an  exquisite  storied  panorama,  but  to  Elise,  in 
the  novitiate  of  foreign  travel,  Switzerland  was 
nourishment. 


116  THE  OPAL  <JUEEN. 

Her  physique  rounded  out  on  its  bread  and  honey, 
and  her  soul  grew  on  its  scenery.  Her  spirit  throbbel 
and  swelled  with  a  newness  of  life  in  the  presence  of 
its  majestic  mountains — those  snow-capped  "  needles  " 
glistening  in  the  sunlight  or  rosy  with  the  after-glow, 
embosoming  ice-bound  torrents-  and  emerald  valleys — 
its  mirrored  lakes  and  its  delicious  air. 

The  exhilarating  excursions  in  and  about  Lucerne 
caused  them  to  extend  what  was  to  have  been  one 
day's  visit  into  four.  The  car-ride  up  the  Righi,  from 
whose  top  the  landscape  of  the  Bernese  Alps  was 
viewed  as  in  a  mirror,  the  visit  to  the  chapel  of 
William  Tell,  the  Thorwalsden  lion  cut  in  the  rock 
over  the  sleeping  pool,  the  circuit  of  the  lovely  lake 
the  chalets  and  villas  on  the  margin,  gave  them  feast 
after  feast  of  purest  pleasure. 

One  breezy  morning  fresh  with  the  newly-scented 
fragrance  of  spring,  they  took  a  steamer  en  route  for 
Interlachen  through  the  Brunig  Pass. 

k'  Oh,  here  they  are,  Aunt  Em  !  "  Elise  exclaimed 
in  a  transport,  as  they  were  sitting  on  the  deck  of 
the  little  steamer  which  was  carrying  them  across  the 
lake  to  Alpnach. 

The  ambiguous  "  they  !  " 

Mrs.  Gray  gazed-  all  around  her,  expecting  an  in- 
undation of  friendly  Americans,  perhaps,  or  a  shoal  of 
strange  fishes  or  some  such  wonder,  but  perceiving 
nothing  to  excite  her  surprise,  turned  and  looked  at 
Elise  whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  distance  while 
she  was  slowly  repeating  : 

"  The  hills,  rock-ribbed  and  ancient  as  the  sun." 

"  Here,  in  slatue-like  repose,  an  old  wrinkled  mountain  rose, 
With  its  hoary  head  in  snows,  and  wild  roses  at  its  feet." 

"  Bryant  must  have  seen  the  Alps  to  use  such 
imagery,  don't  you  think  so,  Aunt  Em  ?  How  like 
giants  with  ribs  of  rock  they  do  stand  '  to  sentinel 
the  enchanted  land  '  and  the  unguarded  sleeping 
waters  !  I  could  float  forever  on  this  liquid  green  ! 
but  instead  of  any  such  prospect  our  sail  is  ending 


SCENE  AT  A LPNA CH.  1 1 T 

now  all  too  soon, 'for  see  the  straggling  village  of 
Alpnach  ! " 

And  then  there  was  the  hurry  and  scramble  for 
the  diligence.  The  eye  of  caution  perceived  many 
passengers  and  few  vehicles,  and  the  overcast  sky 
threatening  the  frequent  April  shower  boded  no 
good  for  stranded  travellers.  But  the  tickets  had 
been  secured,  and  after  some  delay  Mr.  Gray  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  a  charioteer  that  he  was  entitled 
to  three  places  in  his  diligence. 

Just  after  they  were  fairly  packed  in,  Elise  dis- 
covered that  one  of  her  bracelets  was  missing.  It 
was  a  large  pansy  of  diamonds  with  rare  setting  ;  and 
as  she  remembered  seeing  it  on  her  arm  just  after 
she  left  the  boat,  she  knew  it  must  have  been  lost  on 
the  way  up  the  slight  elevation,  only  a  few  rods  to 
the  diligence-stand. 

The  Too-too  Mute  (so  Elise  afterwards  dubbed 
the  driver  for  his  obstinacy)  had  shut  the  door  with 
a  bang,  adjusted  the  curtain,  for  a  heavy  shower  was 
beating  down,  and  was  springing  for  his  seat  on  the 
box,  when  Elise  called  him  back  and  informed  him 
of  her  loss.  She  requested  him  to  open  the  door  that 
she  might  alight  and  search  for  the  missing  jewelry. 

He  assumed  ignorance  of  her  meaning,  at  first  slyly 
pretending  not  to  understand  her  French.  Elise  re- 
peated her  request,  but  before  Mr.  Gray  could  inter- 
fere, shaking  his  head  and  muttering  faint  thunder, 
out  of  the  echoes  of  which  was  slowly  evolved  some 
time  after  his  departure,  "  11  ny  a  pas  de  temps"  he 
sprang  to  his  elevation,  sounding  out  his  coaxing, 
quickening  signal  to  the  well-trained  horses — iv-li-u-p  ! 
aspirated  sharp  and  fine,  which  is  the  musical  incen- 
tive used  by  the  Swiss  drivers  to  urge  on  their  lag- 
ging steeds — and  they  were  off. 

He  succeeded  in  getting  into  the  van  ;  by  bold 
strikes  and  shrewd  management  he  had  acquired  a 
quasi  leadership  of  the  caravan  ;  and  to  think  he  would 
yield  this  for  the  slight  consideration  of  a  thousand 
dollar  bracelet  was  presumption  indeed  !  So  Elise  con- 


118  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

eluded  as  they  whirled  in  front  of  all  competitors. 
She  had  offered  him  a  reward,  and  he  seemed  not  the 
least  moved  by  it.  What  were  a  few  Napoleons  to 
the  man  who  headed  the  stately  march  over  the  Ber- 
nese Alps  and  through  the  "  Brunig  Pass  "  ?  "  Thy 
gold  and  silver  perish  with  thee,"  was  no  doubt  the 
scornful  anathema  of  the  sturdy  Swiss  for  Miss 
Archer's  insinuation  that  the  manly  integrity  of  a 
van-leader  could  be  bribed  to  sell  his  hard-earned 
position. 

"I  saw  a  woman  pick  up  some  shining  thing  out 
there  on  the  bank,"  said  a  lady-passenger,  after  they 
had  travelled  some  distance,  by  way  of  comforting 
intelligence. 

"  Why  did  we  permit  that  driver  to  override  us 
that  way,  uncle?  Did  the  woman  look  poor?  They 
;ill  look  poor  though ;  you  can't  tell  by  that.  Well, 
I  must  be  philosophical ;  perhaps  she  needed  it  more 
than  I.  What  wrill  she  do  with  it,  I  wonder?  I  wish 
her  joy  of  it  anyhow,  and  pray  that  it  may  be  the  mar- 
riage dowry  of  her  beautiful  daughter,  who,  my  pro- 
phetic vision  tells  me,  lias  been  waiting  long  fpr  this 
happy  moment.  Three  cheers  for  the  bride  with  the 
pansy  bracelet !  " 


"  Son  jour,  Mademoiselle  !  "  shot  from  the  mouth  of 
a  slim  figure  making  sail  through  the  corridors  as 
Elise  left  her  room  the  next  morning  after  the  party 
arrived  at  Lausanne. 

Elise  returned  the  salutation,  given  by  the  tasseled 
cap  and  Hying  study-gown  with  that  imperishable  air 
of  courtesy  that  is  the  natural  inheritance  of  the  race. 
Every  morning  she  met  this  phenomenal  tramp,  and 
the  resounding  monotony  of  his  well  emphasized  and 
sonorous  "  Bon  jour,  Mademoiselle  /"  hard  and  cold  as 
it  seemed,  delivered  automatically,  sharply,  like  a 
business-prelude  for  the  day's  activities,  vibrated  on 
her  ear  all  day  long. 

The  little  man  was  a  Frenchman  who  had  some- 


SCENE  AT  LA  USANCE.  119 

thing  to  do  (an  anomaly),  and  a  stern  temper  for  the 
doing  of  it,  also  anomalous  in  the  mercurial  French- 
man. He  performed  the  double  duty  of  landlord  of 
the  mansion  and  Professor  of  Geography  in  a  neigh- 
boring school ;  he  \vas  also  skilled  in  the  tongues  and 
had  private  classes  in  the  dead  languages — an  austere 
man  who  never  smiled,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the 
customary  salutation  of  the  day,  which  was  born  in 
him,  preserved  an  intense  and  unapproachable  silence. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gray  went  to  Rome,  Elise  preferring 
to  remain  with  'her  maid  in  this  picturesque  Swiss 
village  during  their  visit.  Mrs.  Gray  indulged  her 
niece  in  this  whim,  for  the  double  reason  of  gratify- 
ing her  and  preventing  her  taking  the  risk  of  a  Ro- 
man September.  She  did  not  tell  Elise  of  the  hazard 
they  were  inclining  in  this  visit,  lest  he,r  pleasure 
might  be  marred  by  anxiety  for  them.  She  felt  that 
it  was  wise  not  to  take  her,  and  was  glad  that  the 
solution  of  what  might  have  been  a  difficult  problem 
was  rendered  easy  by  her  own  volition. 

Elise  was  very  fond  of  her  maid,  who  was  an  intel- 
ligent German  with  aristocratic  tendencies,  connec- 
tions, and  ancestry. 

They  scoured  the  little  town  from  end  to  end,  from 
height  to  height;  for  it  was  on — not  simply  seven 
hills,  but  hills  ad  infinitum,  Elise  thought,  as  at  every 
turn  a  new  inclined  plane  started  into  light,  ambi- 
tiously scorning  the  level.  "'A  city  set  on  a  hill,'" 
she  wrote  to  her  aunt,  "is  comely  in  a  picture  or  in 
the  distance,  because  it  is  founded  on  absolute  mathe- 
matical laws  ;  it  makes  a  pretty  Bible  simile,  too, 
but  in  point  of  fact  it  is  more  useful  for  purposes  of 
rhetoric  and  aesthetics  than  convenient  for  pedes- 
trians and  exhausted  tourists." 

But  they  "did  the  town"  notwithstanding,  in 
strict  accordance  with  American  principles ;  visited 
all  the  ruins,  climbed  to  the  tops  of  some  adjacent 
Jura  peaks  for  views,  which  they  took  in  artistic 
fashion,— making  a  circle  of  their  arms  and  looking 
backward  through  them  ;  and  then  Elise  sketched 


120  THE  OPAL  QUEEN, 

them  in  her  portfolio,  and  on  rainy  or  inclement  clays 
touched  them  up  in  water-colors.  She  found  her  char- 
coal sketches  remarkably  satisfactory,  the  materials 
being  so  simple  and  easy  to  carry. 

The  laurel  leaves  were  so  suggestive  of  classic  lore 
that  she  could  not  pass  them  without  picking  up 
great  handfuls.  They  chose  one  day  when  the  ground 
was  strewn  with  their  tawny  verdure — for  they  were 
parti-colored,  half  cuivre  and  half  green,  to  gather 
the  most  beautiful  they  could  find  for  chaplets.  It 
was  her  intention  to  press  them,  and  then  decorate  her 
sculptured  antiques  of  the  renowned  worthies  whose 
brows  were  crowned  with  them  during  life. 

She  became  interested  and  excited  to  such  a  degree 
that  they  worked  at  noonday  under  a  spread  um- 
brella to  shield  them  from  a  scorching  sun  that  was 
bent  not  so  much  on  browning  Elise  as  maturing 
the  luxurious  vineyards  which  crowned  the  hill-tops, 
adorned  the  slopes,  and  clasped  the  valleys  of  this 
charming  region — the  purple  vintage  gleaming  even 
now  in  the  genial  rays  of  the  late  September  sun, 
steeped  in  the  essence,  of  nourishing  heat. 

In  the  evening  when  they  returned,  Elise  felt  too 
ill  for  supper,  and  lay  upon  her  couch  full  of  an  in- 
describable pain. 

"  It  is  all  over  me,"  she  said,  to  Bertha,  her  maid — "  t 
guess  we  have  had  too  much  of  this  mountain  elixir. 
But  don't  worry "  (for  Bertha  was  regarding  her 
anxiously),  "a  night's  rest  will  surely  retone  me." 

So  Bertha  was  not  permitted  to  call  a  physician, 
but  could  not  be  prevented  from  watching  her  mistress 
all  night.  She  was  troubled  to  see  how  restless  she 
was,  groaning  and  moaning  in  a  broken  sleep,  or  lying 
awake  in  a  dull  pain,  and  could  hardly  wait  for 
morning  to  dawn,  so  convinced  was  she  of  the  im- 
perative need  of  medical  aid.  And  her  fears  were 
not  groundless — the  Doctor  implied,  by  the  active 
remedies  he  at  once  administered,  that  his  patient 
was  in  danger. 

The  pain  now  in  every  member  of  her  body  was 


SCENE  A  T  LA  US  ANNE.  121 

indescribably  intense  ;  a  raging  fever  was  burning  her 
up ;  and  after  a  hot  bath  into  which  she  was  lifted 
like  an  infant,  in  and  out,  she  had  not  once  stirred, 
the  pains  were  so  aggravated  by  the  slightest  motion. 

Medicine  was  given  in  vain  ;  the  weak,  inflamed 
stomach  refused  to  receive  it. 

"  Ice  !  ice  !  Give  me  ice,"  was  all  she  moaned,  and 
Bertha  sat  by  her  side  faithfully  administering  it  with- 
out intermission. 

A  telegram  was  sent  to  Mr.  Gray,  and  Elise  hoped 
soon  to  have  the  soothing  ministrations  of  her  aunt. 
A  professional  nurse  was  summoned  who  was  known 
to  be  competent  and  faithful. 

When  Elise  saw  that  no  help  could  be  derived 
from  medicines,  she  said  to  the  doctor  : 

"  Under  God,  Doctor,  everything  depends  now 
upon  you  and  the  nurse." 

Day  after  day  she  lay  there  motionless,  speechless, 
with  the  exhausting  agony  which  racked  her  pros- 
trate form. 

"  Shall  I  read  the  Bible  to  you,  Miss  Archer  ?  "  said 
the  daughter  of  the  landlord,  w.ho  came  in  one  day  to 
tender  her  assistance,  thinking  that  Elise  was  passing 
through  her  final  illness  and  ought  to  have  the  con- 
solations of  the  Gospel.  Ignorant,  too,  of  her  spirit- 
ual condition,  she  had  the  charitable  intent  of  dis- 
covering if  the  soul  so  near  the  dark  river  was  ready 
for  the  plunge. 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  Elise  said  faintly,  and  clasped 
her  hands  over  her  breast.  She  knew  that  even  if 
heaven  was  conditioned  upon  any  effort  of  hers  at 
that  moment,  she  must  inevitably  lose  it;  she  could 
not  make  the  feeblest  attempt — it  was  all  she  could 
do  to  endure  the  terrible  pain. 

"  Surely  this  must  sunder  soul  and  body,"  she 
said  to  herself — "  there  can  be  no  greater  agony." 
Thought  and  feeling  were  submerged  in  physical 
distress.  Her  sensibilities  were  numbed;  her  intellect 
was  indeed  not  dull,  but  under  the  control  of  the  grim 
monster,  Disease,  could  not  choose  its  subject  of 


122  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

thought ;  and  except  a  fleeting  wonder  why  her  aunt 
did  not  come,  no  emotion  was  stirred  in  her  heart 
at  her  absence,  so  all-absorbing  was  her  bodily  an- 
guish. 

For  eleven  days  without  food,  without  sleep,  with- 
out change  of  position,  she  lay  there  slowly  wasting 
away,  but  with  niind  undimmed  and  courage  un- 
daunted ! 

"Oh!  si  maigre!  si  maigre!"  said  the  femme-de- 
cliambre,  who  had  been  excluded  from  the  room  (as 
had  all  but  the  nurse  and  Bertha  until  the  crisis  was 
past),  when  at  last  she  was  permitted  to  look  at  her. 

Careful  nursing  would  now  restore  her,  although 
the  return  to  health  might  be  a  long  and  weary  road. 

When  convalescence  was  fairly  established  and  her 
appetite  was  normal  once  more, 

"  What  shall  I  eat?"  she  asked  the  doctor. 

"  You  eats  anytings  you  likes,  Mademoiselle,  only 
it  is  better  you  eats  many  tings,  Miss  Archer,  one 
variety;  and  you  may  eat — oh,  so  much!"  describing 
a  circumference  of  ample  dimensions — "  so  only  you 
eat  varieties." 

"  Then  may  I  have  cauliflower?  You  Swiss  know 
how  to  cook  it,  and  I  have  learned  to  like  it  here." 

"  Perfectly,  that  is  good  ;  without  doubt  you  may 
have  the  cauliflowers.  You  eat  what  you  likes  now, 
Miss  Archer." 

When  the  dinner  was  served,  the  coveted  dish  was 
missing. 

"  Monsieur  lets  me  not  have  the  cauliflower," 
Bertha  explained. 

Elise's  face  showed  the  surprise  she  felt  that  Mon- 
sieur should  presume  to  countermand  her  orders,  but 
she  only  said  quietly — 

"  Tell  Monsieur,  Bertha,  that  I  send  you  for  it." 

Bertha  returned  in  a  moment  in  a  confusedly  ex- 
cited state,  followed  closely  by  the  irate  Monsieur 
livid  with  rage.  He  advanced,  shaking  his  finger  as 
he  came,  and  crying  out  to  Elise  in  harsh  and  meas- 
ured staccato — 


SCENE  AT  LAUSANNE.  123 

"  You  will  not  eat  that  cauliflowers,  Mademoiselle" 
— and  by  this  time  he  was  so  near  that  his  threaten- 
ing finger  almost  touched  her  face — "  I  gives  you  not 
that  vegetable  at  all"  His  tone  was  an  explosion  of 
scathing  denunciation  as  he  flung  out  the  last  sen- 

o  o 

tence  like  a  defiant  battle  cry. 

"  The  doctor  has  given  his  consent,"  Elise  urged 
with  a  quiet  dignity  in  striking  contrast  to  his  bel- 
ligerent attitude.  She  was  trembling  from  head  to 
foot  with  the  violence  of  this  sudden  assault,  yet 
bravely  determined  to  assert  and  maintain  her  rights. 

"  The  doctor  is  one  fool !  "  was  the  heated  rejoinder. 
"  You  think  ive  haf  you  to  die  herein  our  house,  Mad- 
emoiselle !  No  !  No  !  I  gives  you  not  that  vegetable." 

So  here  was  the  terrible  secret  of  Monsieur  con- 
stituting himself  a  Board  of  Control  over  her  diet, 
Elise  thought  as  she  silently  stared  at  him  in  a  daze. 

"  The  doctor  is  one  fool!  "  he  repeated,  still  shaking 
in  her  face  the  defiant  ringer.  Monsieur's  command 
of  English  was  small,  but  he  had  hit  upon  a  terse  ex- 
pression, and  even  had  he  possessed  the  vocabulary 
with  which  to  change  or  enrich  it,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  he  could  have  selected  a  word  better  fitted 
for  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose. 

"  You  eat  no  cauliflowers,  Mademoiselle,  here  in  my 
house!"  he  repeated  in  the  somewhat  modulated  but 
still  sharp  imperative  of  authority,  while  heavily 
striding  from  the  room. 

In  the  weak  state  of  her  nerves,  Elise  could  illy 
support  such  a  scene  and  sank  back  upon  her  pillows, 
pale  and  fainting,  overcome  with  the  sudden  excite- 
ment and  nervous  shock.  The  daughter  came  in 
and  vainly  attempted  to  apologize  for  the  stern  Mon- 
sieur, but  Elise,  while  willing  to  forgive,  was  thrown 
back  several  days  in  her  recovery. 

One  night  during  the  height  of  her  illness,  in  the 
midnight  watches  whose  dim  silence  was  hourly  melo- 
dious with  the  half  concerted  chiming  of  six  clocks 
in  the  "  flat,"  Elise,  who  had  been  partially  raised  up 
by  the  nurse,  was  lying,  exhausted,  her  half  audible 


124  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

groans  penetrating  the  stillness  with  a  weird,  un- 
earthly sound,  when  Monsieur,  who  had  an  adjoining 
room,  stalked  in  \vithoutwordorsign,  and  demanded 
of  the  nurse  that  he  should  be  permitted  to  summon 
the  doctor.  He  looked  at  Elise  steadily  and,  as  she 
thought  with  commiseration,  and  in  the  midst  of  her 
pain  she  said  to  herself,  "The  grave  little  man  can 
be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  sympathy  after  all.  I 
thought  lie  was  only  a  wooden  man — I  am  sorry  that 
I  misjudged  him." 

But  now  she  saw  the  animus  of  that  midnight 
visit,  which  was  unannounced,  unexpected,  just  like 
this.  The  prudent  Monsieur  was  thinking  not  so 
much  of  the  suffering  invalid  as  of  the  probabilities  of 
a  funeral.  "  You  think  we  haf  you  to  die  in  our 
house,"  was  the  pious  motive  that  winged  his  feet 
and  tasseled  cap  to  her  bedside. 

"  Poor  little  man  ! "  Elise  mused,  "  to  care  more  for 
his  own  comfort  than  for  the  distress  of  the  sick. 
Has  he  a  superstition  about  sheltering  a  dying  for- 
eigner, I  wonder  ?  More's  the  pity."  Then  with  a 
touch  of  her  old  buoyancy  she  continued  : 

"  Pass  on,  Monsieur ;  since  Death  has  not  yet 
claimed  me,  Monsieur  shall  not  defeat  my  intentions 
in  the  line  of  progressive  health.  Exit,  Monsieur 
Gignaud ! — I  had  almost  said  Allez-en !  but  I  will 
not  be  rude  even  to  his  wraith." 

"  Snow  on  all  the  mountain  tops !  "  exclaimed 
Elise,  one  bright  morning,  catching  glimpses  from  the 
window  no  longer  darkened. 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  it  snowed  all  night." 

"  Why,  isn't  it  early  for  snow,  Bertha  ?  Where- 
abouts are  we  in  the  calendar  ?  I  have  lost  the  track 
of  old  Time's  footprints." 

"  It  is  twenty-first  of  October,  my  lady  ;  you  have 
been  sick  three  weeks  and  four  days  already." 

"  October  almost  gone  ! — my  opal  month  ! — its 
splendors  all  unseen,  its  delicious  air,  which  one  can 
take  deep  draughts  of  '  without  a  cask  to  bore  or  a 
spiggot  to  turn,'  all  unsipped  by  this  bunch  of  bones 


SCENE  AT  LA  US  ANNE.  125 

strung  into  what  they  call  Elise  Archer !    Ah,  me  ! " 
"  But  you'll  soon  be  rosy  again,  my  lady,  and  in 
the  South,  where  we  go  soon,  the  air  is  delicious,  just 
so  as  this." 


126  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FIRST   GltEEK   FESTIVAL. 

THE  roses  shook  out  their  petals  in  the  clear  De- 
cember air  on  the  memorable  morning  when  the  Greek 
Games  were  to  be  celebrated  by  the  students  of  the 
Acudemia  della  Crusca.  And  as  if  conscious  of 
the  significance  of  the  day,  Lilian's  pet  turtle-dove 
winged  its  feet  to  the  laurel,  and  the  cardinal-bird 
sang  high  in  the  green  branches  of  the  bay  just  in 
front  of  her  window. 

The  exercises  lasted  from  eleven  in  the  morning 
to  three  in  the  afternoon,  but  the  pure  air  out  of  which 
the  vigorous  athlete  extracted,  his  inspiring  oxygen 
furnished  also  an  exhilarating  tonic  for  the  endurance 
of  sight-seeing.  There  were  many  contestants  for 
the  prizes.  Achilles  bore  off  the  honors  of  oratory, 
Clito  of  music  and  Critobulus  of  the  athletic  games. 

At  four  o'clock  the  village,  or  such  part  of  it  as 
was  interested  in  the  movement,  was  dining  ;  and  at 
the  innovating  hour  of  seven,  sixty  as  fine  youths  as 
ever  laid  claim  to  manhood  donned  their  robes,  some 
purple  and  some  white,  and  walked  in  a  procession 
headed  by  Prof.  Monboddo  and  his  staff,  to  Doctor 
Healey's  residence,  accompanied  by  players  upon 
flutes  and  pan  dean  pipes. 

Professor  Monboddo  was  a  curio  of  the. first  water 
in  domestic  and  social  archaeology.  Having  for  many 
years  been  a  devout  student  of  the  same,  he  had 
collected  for  his  own  use  many  valuable  bits  of  Greek- 
furnishing  which,  after  various  hesitations,  Mrs. 
Healey  had  been  persuaded  to  scatter  about  her 
rooms.  A  tripod  here,  there  a  portiere  of  damask 


THE  FIRST  GREEK  FESTIVAL.  127 

and  gold  from  Athens,  a  vase  with  a  painted  Artemis 
in  an  embroidered  petticoat,  another  with  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  taking  of  Troy,  and  some  tapestries-  of 
her  own  embroidery  gave  a  classic  air  to  the  apart- 
ments and  obviated  the  startling  effect  of  too  wide 
anachronisms  between  the  guests  and  their  surround- 
ings. 

"  Isn't  it  about  time  forDresson  ?  "  said  Dr.  Healey, 
restlessly  pacing  the  floor  during  the  nervous  inter- 
val preceding  the  arrival  of  the  guests.  "  You  two 
Greek  damsels,  or,  to  be  proper,  I  suppose  I  must  say 
dame  and  maiden — put  me  quite  out  of  my  era.  Dres- 
son  would  be  a  link  between  the  centuries — something 
to  bridge  this  tremendous  chasm,  standing  on  the 
dizzy  verge  of  which  makes  a  fellow  feel  mighty 
uncomfortable ! " 

"  You  know  I  begged  you  to  wear  the  costume. 
Doctor,  if  you  could  only  do  it  for  a  few  moments, 
while  we  are  receiving  our  friends.  I  imagined  you 
would  feel  odd— 

"  And  you  know,"  he  interrupted,  "  that  I  politely 
declined  to  make  the  investment  for  the  whim  of  an 
hour,  and  send  Mrs.  Histeriah  speeding  on  her 
angel-flight  before  her  time  to  boot — for  she  would  be 
sure  to  take  me  for  a  messenger  from  Hades  in  all 
that  white-robed  botheration." 

"Now,  Doctor,"  laughed  Lily,  "how  foolish  you 
are  !  You  know  yon  could  have  changed  it." 

"  Possibly,  Mrs.  Healey ;  Mrs.  Histeriah  might 
obligingly  postpone  her  little  illness,  while  I  paid 
devout  worship  to  the  muses  and  goddesses  of  the 
mythological  proprieties  ;  and  moreover,  to  a  young, 
sprightly  person  like  myself  lying  on  the  shelf  all 
day,  a  sudden  diversion  of  that  kind  would  no  doubt 
be  salubrious,  refreshing ;  but  you  forget  my  time- 
honored  motto,  Mrs.  Healey,  semper  paratus,  upon 
which  so  far  has  hung  the  staff  of  bread  and  water 
contributing  so  largely  to  our  domestic  felicities." 

Lily  was  too  much  disappointed  to  enjoy  the 
humor,  and  sat  demurely  quiet. 


128  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

It  was  unfortunate  that  the  Doctor  introduced  a 
subject  upon  which  there  had  been  much  discus- 
sion, with  strong  pleadings  to  offset  the  Doctor's 
good-natured  obstinacy.  For  Lily,  it  was  the  one 
bit  of  vexation,  the  only  uncheerful  item  in  the  whole 
management,  that  she  had  encountered.  Every- 
thing else  had  yielded  to  her  energy  and  her  skill — 
and  she  was  proud  of  her  husband  and  naturally  am- 
bitious that  he  should  support  her  new  rdle  with  his 
manly  dignity  in  the  same. 

But  now  Dresson  entered,  arrayed  in  his  ordinary 
costume,  pre-Raphaelite  cut,  with  unusual  distinction 
in  its  tone  and  coloring. 

"My  swallow-tail  salutes  your  knee-breeches!" 
said  the  Doctor,  profoundly  bowing,  as  Dresson 
lightly  touched  his  hand  in  greeting. 

" '  Pon  my  word,  ladies,  I  acknowledge  myself  in  an 
eclipsed  condition  as  far  as  our  costumes  are  concerned 
— barring  the  color-scheme  in  my  own,  which  in  sober 
richness  excels,  you  know"- — glancing  up  and  down 
his  fine  person  as  far  as  the  optic  law  permitted  ; 
"  but,  my  Queen,"  he  said,  taking  Elise  one  side,  the 
dancing  admiration  of  his  eyes  finding  vocal  outlet, 
"is  all  my  queen  for  a'  that.  By  Jove !  you're  every 
inch  a  queen,  Elise,"  he  exclaimed,  turning  her  round. 
She  revolved  slowly  that  he  might  study  the  parts 
in  detail  as  well  as  in  combination.  "  I  consider 
your  costume,"  he  remarked  with  profound  emphasis, 
having  stood  off,  viewing  her  through  his  single  glass, 
"  the  expression  of  a  notable  intelligence  and  a  line 
imagination." 

"  The  ancient  Greeks  and  Mr.  Worth  are  duly  grate- 
ful for  your  appreciation  of  their  work,"  she  assented 
with  a  dainty  courtesy. 

"  Is  that  a  part  of  the  evening's  entertainment?" 
the  Doctor  called  out. 

"  Spin  !  Lily.  I  am  not  going  to  have  you  out- 
done by  that  giddy  Archer  girl.  Why  don't  you  spin 
and  make  your  '  cheese  '  ?  What  is  the  next  in  order 
on  the  programme,  eh,  Dresson  ?  Well,  here  goes  for 


THE  FIRST  GREEK  FESTIVAL.  129 

a  pirouette !  "  he  said,  flinging  himself  high  in  air 
and  nimbly  twirling  in  fantastic  measure.  "Now, 
Dresson,  for  your  *•  pigeon  wing'1 — eh?  that  belongs  to 
your  period,  my  man — haven't  you  acquired  the  ac- 
complishment yet?" 

"  This  is  hideously  chromatique,"  Dresson  observed, 
smiling  savagely,  who  had  a  too  attenuated  refine- 
ment for  fun  that  required  agilit}r. 

"  I  always  refrain  from  the  startling  or  discordant, 
you  know,"  he  said,  grimly. 

"  '  Pon  my  word,  Doctor,  you  are  as  uncompromis- 
ing in  your  treatment  of  the  ladies  and  myself,  as 
you  have  been  in  the  starched  primness  of  your  get- 
up,"  he  continued  in  a  tone  of  slight  irritation. 

"  Good  ! "  said  the  Doctor,  who  enjoyed  more 
than  the  best  Burgundy  a  spree  of  choice  pre-Ra- 
phaelite  tantalization.  "  That's  right,  Dresson,  cham- 
pion the  ladies  !  You  may  have  to  go  in  to  the  death 
before  the  war  is  over." 

"  For  shame,  Doctor,"  cried  Lily  and  Elise. 

"  Oh,  the  beautiful  music  !  Listen  !  "  exclaimed 
Elise,  "  they  are  coming." 

A  concord  of  melodious  sounds,  pure  as  the  breath 
of  Heaven,  from  flute  and  obiole  came  singing 
through  the  walls.  Nearer  and  nearer  swelled  the 
crescendo,  till  a  full  burst  of  rich  harmony,  followed 
by  a  loud  blast  from  the  martial  trumpet,  announced 
the  arrival  at  the  gate.  The  door  opened  as  by  in- 
visible hands,  and  Professor  Monboddo  led  in  his 
marshalled  array. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Doctor  to  Lily,  and  then 
turning  to  the  Professor,  who  was  by  his  side,  "  if 
the  Professor  will  kindly  act  as  my  substitute  during 
the  rest  of  the  reception  ceremonies,  I  will  "beg  you 
to  excuse  me  for  an  hour." 

"  I  regret  the  necessity,  but  if  the  Professor  is  will- 
ing," Lily  replied. 

The  Professor  was  a  bachelor ;  and  although  a  man 
of  that  inimitable  politeness  which  springs  from  cul- 
ture and  a  sincere  and  universal  kindliness  of  spirit 


130  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

was  totally  unacquainted  with  the  conventional 
punctilios  which  govern  society. 

lie  exhibited  a  real  diffidence  mingled  with  a 
genuine  candor  in  meeting  the  difficulty,  that  cap- 
tivated them  both  and  disarmed  any  suspicions  Lily 
might  have  had  as  to  his  eligibility. 

"  It  is,  indeed,  deeply  to  be  regretted  that  the 
master  of  the  mansion  must  absent  himself  from  any 
part  of  the  delightful  time  we  anticipate,  but  as  a 
guest  in  your  house,  Doctor  Healey,  I  must  not  seek 
to  escape  the  honor  of  your  confidence." 

He  bowed  low  to  both,  and  then  continued  pleas- 
antly : 

"  '  The  back  shall  be  fitted  for  the  burden,'  so  I  read. 
All  my  available  vigilance  and  courtesy,  Mrs.  Healey, 
are  cheerfully  dedicated  to  your  service.  Bach- 
elors have  not  lost  the  art  of  smiling,  and  Mrs.  Healey 
is  rarely  gifted  with  smooth  phrasing,  so  we  may 
perhaps  steer  the  ship  in  your  absence,  sir,"  he 
said  blandly,  waving  his  hand  as  the  Doctor  made 
his  exit. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Otto?  "  inquired  Elise, 
as  they  were  walking  through  the  gay  throng  after 
one  of  the  Grecian  movements. 

"  It  is  immensely  brilliant,"  he  replied — "  an  un- 
equalled success." 

"But  I  mean  the  costuming,  specially?"  she 
explained. 

"  Well,"  he  replied  with  a  slow,  drawling  circum- 
flex accent,  "  let  me  see.!  "  adjusting  his  eyeglass 
and  glancing  over  the  company,  including  Elise. 
"The  present  style  of  apparel,  and  by  that  I  mean 
the  prevailing  modern  style,  is  too  rigid  and  exact 
in  its  outlines,  you  know,  too  set  and  determined 
in  its  form — there  are  no  delightful  spaces  for  im- 
agination to  revel  in,  all  is  compact,  close,  severe  ; — 
this  style,"  again  scrutinizing  those  within  easy-view- 
ing distance,  "  is — well,  it  touches  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, you  know,  in  the  utter  neglect  of  definite  form  ; 
the  handling  is  feathery  and  the  color  is  unrefined — 


THE  FIRST  GREEK  FESTIVAL.  131 

not  quite  the  correct  thing,  you  see  ;  "  then,  perceiving 
her  disappointment,  he  added,  "  but  it  is  rich  and  clear 
.in  tone  and  excellent  in  justness  of  values,  and  might 
be  modified  to  advantage." 

The  merry  music  rang  out  for  the  next  dance,  and 
Channingcame  to  claim  Elise. 

Dressou  sought  Miss  Love. 

Elise  was  as  full  of  the  poetry  of  motion  as  her 
dress  was  of  poetry  of  color,  and  with  light  and  fairy 
step  hastened  to  her  place  in  the  dance. 

"  I  shall  need  your  assistance  in  detecting  these 
characters,"  Elise  remarked  to  Channing,  as  they 
were  sitting  upon  an  antiquated  rockee  which  had 
for  upholstery  a  veritable  bear-skin  thrown  over  it  and 
pendent  at  the  back,  sides  and  front. 

"  They  were  announced  by  their  Greek  names  and 
not  by  their  characters.  Some,  I  think,  I  ought  to 
recognize,  as,  for  instance,  AtlienS  with  her  helmet  or 
owl,  and  Demeter  with  her  grain  and  bushel-crown, 
Juno  with  her  dove,  and  so  on." 

"  The  Greek  art  is  so  diversified  in  its  delineation  of 
the  different  mythological  characters,"  Channing  re- 
plied, "  that  there  are  many  representations  and  sym- 
bols for  the  same  goddess.  I  ought  perhaps  to  make 
this  modification  of  the  statement,  that  there  is  also  a 
universally  acknowledged  identifying  symbol  for  each 
goddess." 

"  This  lovely  Miss  Tete  !  "  exclaimed  Elise,  "so  deli- 
cate, so  ethereal — do  you  see  her  with  her  veil  and 
girdle,  her  white  himation  embroidered  in  flowers  of 
gold?" 

"  '  The  nymph's  fair  head  a  veil  transparent  graced  ; 
Her  swelling  loins  a  radiant  zone  embraced 
With  flowers  of  gold  ;  an  under  robe,  unbound, 
In  snowy  waves  flow'd  glittering  on  the  ground.' 

he  quoted  for  answer  in  deep,  rich  tones,  with  eyes 
closed,  calling   up  the   musical   strains  of    Odyssey. 

"That  brings  up  the  lovely  Nausicaa " 

"  She  was  announced  as  Heliodora"  interrupted 
Elise. 


132  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

'  "  With  veil,  a  work  partaking  of  the  spider's  web?" 
"Yes,"  assented  Elise,  "quite  diaphanous." 
"  That  lady  with  the  saffron  robe — 
"  There  are  several,"  he  interrupted — "  with  the 
circling  sandals,  do  you  mean?  " 
"  Yes  ;  that  is  Miss  Stilz  as  Enyo. 

"  '  Who  sits  dressed  out  with  flowers  and  blazing  robes 
Of  saffron  hue,  and  richly  broidered  o'er 
With  loose  Cimmerian  vests  and  circling  sandals.'  " 

And  then  bending,  as  he  saw  Elise  playfully  drawing 
her  veil  over  her  face,  and  whispering  low,  he  said : 

"  '  O'er  her  fair  face  a  snowy  veil  she  threw, 
And  softly  sighing  from  the  loom  withdrew.'  " 

"Shall  I  go  ?"  she  asked,  laughing.  "You  are  the 
machine  in  motion  just  now,  so  I  must  e'en  take  you 
for  the  loom  to  carry  out  the  figure." 

But  he  gently  detained  her,  and  then,  as  he  saw  her 
color  rising,  quoted  again  : 

"  '  And  veiled  her  blushes  in  a  silken  shade  ; 
Her  hair's  fair  ornaments  the  braids  that  bound, 
The  net  that  held  them,  and  the  wreath  that  crowned 
The  veil  and  diadem,  flew  far  away.' 

May  your  fate  be  brighter  than  poor  Andromache's !  " 
he  said  absently. 

"  Why,  I  shall  dream  I  am  walking  in  the  midst  of 
the  Iliad  to-night!"  she  said;  "  my  mind  is  stepping 
in  the  march  of  it  now." 

"  That  you  have  earned  a  victorious  rest — a  rest 
without  dreams — the  success  of  this  marvellously 
brilliant  entertainment  abundantly  attests,"  he  re- 
marked with  a  sudden  access  of  enthusiasm.  "  Mrs. 
Healey  and  Miss  Archer  should  be  canonized  at  once 
for  inaugurating  this  grand  movement.  But  are  you 
very  tired?"  he  inquired,  with  a  suggestion  of  linger- 
ing tenderness  in  his  tone,  observing  a  slight  droop- 
ing of  her  figure. 

"  I  wish  to  compliment  Miss  Archer  upon  her  skil- 
ful reproduction  of  the  charming  toilet  of  Aphro- 


THE  FIRST  GUEEK  FESTIVAL.  133 

dite"  said  the  Professor, at  that  instant  approaching 
"•On  my  first  \ie\v,  I  bore  a  resemblance  to  the 
brave  Anchises,  for  like  him  all  my  senses  were — 

"  '  With  wonder  stricken  ;  and  high  taken  heeds 
Both  of  her  form,  brave  stature,  and  rich  weeds. 
For  for  a  veil  she  shine.l  in  an  attire 
That  cast  a  radiance  past  the  ray  of  fire, 
Beneath  which,  wore  she  girt  to  her  a  gown 
Wrought  all  with  growing  rose  buds  reaching  down 
T'  her  slender  smalls  which  buskins  did  divine 
Such  as  taught  T/ieti^  silver  feet  to  shine. 
Her  soft,  white  neck  rich  carcanets  embraced 
Bright,  and  with  gold  in  all  variety  graced 
That  to  her  bust  let  down,  lay  there  and  shone 
As  at  her  joyful  full  the  rising  inoon.' 

But,  Miss  Archer,  I  beg  pardon  for  this  display  of 
Greek  literature  ;  upon  any  other  occasion  it  might 
justly  be  considered  pedantic,  but  may  I  not  hope 
that  the  novelty  of  a  genuine  Greek  Festival  in  this 
American  village  will  be  a  sufficient  excuse  for  what 
was — permit  me  to  assure  you — a  spontaneous  out- 
burst?" 

"Homer  is  in  the  ascendency  to-night,  Professor," 
laughed  Channing.  "I  have  been  indulging  myself 
in  some  spouting,  and  have  caught  occasional  snatches 
of  the  divine  melody  from  Critobulus  over  there,  and 
Menelaus  jnst  passed  quoting  it  in  IphigenicCs  ear. 
Trust  the  Monboddoes  for  airing  their  Greek  to-night, 
sir!" 

"It  is  quite  in  keeping  with  the  scene,  I  am  sure," 
observed  Elise.  "  I  can  speak  for  myself  when  I  de- 
clare that  its  rare  music  penetrates  my  very  soul.  I 
was  saying  to  Mr.  Earle  just  now,  Professor,  that  I 
should  dream  of  figuring  in  Homeric  scenes  to-night, 
and  now  to  you  I  confess  that  your  poetry  has  made 
me  feel  like  a  harp — that  old  '  harp  of  a  thousand 
strings,'  "  she  added,  laughing,  "  every  one  of  which  is 
vibrating  to  the  rhythmic  cadence." 

"  And  that  will  perhaps  be  the  effect  upon  Crito- 
bulus' friend,  you  think?  I  must  try  it,"  he  said. 
"  Is  it  not  a  laudable  undertaking  ?  It  is  well  worth 


134  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

while  to  set  such  harps  a-going — invisible  music  pro- 
duces tangible  results — will  you  bear  me  out  in  that, 
Achilles  ?  " 

"Undoubtedly,"  replied  Channing,  "but  how  about 
the  effect  when  the  perpetrator  undertakes  his  deed 
with  malice  prepense  ?  "  he  inquired,  laughing. 

"  Oh  ! "  replied  the  Professor  good-naturedly, 
"  this  time  I  mean  to  be  the  ideal  artist,  not  the  real 
istic,  and  after  I  have  produced  my  effects,  I  shall 
confess  the  little  plot  for  the  truth's  sake — Justitia 
fiat  ruit  ccelum  !  " 

Something  in  the  flowing  folds  of  her  dress  as  they 
sat  there  reminded  Channing  of  the  day  they  first 
met. 

"  Isn't  it  about  time  for  you  to  fulfil  your  promise, 
Miss  Archer  ?  " 

Her  look  gave  no*  sign  of  an  intelligent  comprehen- 
sion, and  he  explained : 

"  J  was  to  be  enlightened  with  regard  to  a  passing 
mystery  'some  other  time  ;'  and  meantime,  I  was 
not  to  misconstrue  the  action  or  treasure  up  spite 
against  the  actor ;  having  faithfully  complied  with 
the  conditions,  I  claim  the  guerdon.  I  am  ready  to 
prove,  if  necessary,"  he  continued,  perceiving  that  she 
had  no  clue  to  his  meaning,  "that  the  appointed  period 
for  the  disclosure  lies  just  in  this  present  moment — 
between  the  two  eternities." 

Elise  assumed  her  favorite  thinking  posture. 
This  necessarily  involve'd  Channing  in  the  study 
of  her  fingers  and  the  top  of  her  head,  without,  how- 
ever, interfering  with  his  philological  ramble. 

"  And  still  it  doesn't  come,"  she  said,  looking  up 
with  a  perplexed  air. 

"  The  moment  is  propitious,"  he  went  on,  tantaliz- 
ingly.  "No  Professor  of  the  Literary  Art  is  within 
hearing ;  even  Mrs.  Healey  has  conveniently  vanished. 
That  we  are— 

"  I  must  be  intrinsically  stupid.  What  can  it  be  ?  " 
Elise  interrupted,  still  with  head  bent  and  eyes  closed, 
vainly  challenging  the  inner  light. 


.  THE  FIRST  GREEK  FESTIVAL.  135 

"As  I  was  remarking,1'  he  continued,  provokingly, 
"  that  we  are  now  living  in  time  will,  I  suppose,  com- 
mand your  fullest  assent;  that  it  may  be  divided 
into  three  distinct  parts,  each  claiming  a  specific  juris- 
diction, is,  I  think,  equally  clear — this,  that,  and  the 
other;  the  last  mentioned  being  the  most  remote  from 
the  time  of  the  action — say  three  months — which  is, 
you  must  admit,  sufficient  to  constitute  qualification. 
That  point  of  time  has  now  arrived ;  many  others 
equally  entitled  to  the  name  have  intervened,  but 
because  the  parties  were  not  upon  the  ground  to  fix 
them  with  the  desired  impression  they  departed  un- 
encumbered by  the  strain." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  is  more  than  I  shall  be,  if  this 
goes  on  much  longer,"  Elise  said,  laughing  and  look- 
ing up.  "  Was  it  about  you  or  me  or ?  " 

"  The  dark  horse  ?  "  he  suggested.  "  I  imagine  the 
latter ;  at  all  events  it  is  enveloped  in  clouds  of  black- 
ness at  the  present  moment — it  might  possibly  have 
been  the  Trojan  horse,  but  that,  according  to  the 
best  authorities,  wasn't  dark." 

Darting  through  the  innumerable  convolutions  of 
association  that  proved  the  cue  to  the  riddle — 

"  Ah  !  I  dimly  see ! "  she  cried,  and  then  as  the 
whole  flashed  upon  her. — "  Oh,  is  that  all  ? "  she 
asked,  brightly.  "  Why,  I  have  been  thinking  of  all 
sorts  of  formidable  things  to  solve  your  mystery. 
The  word  '  Trojan'  is  eminently  suggestive  of  Greek, 
you  know." 

"  I  see  before  me  a  statuesque  figure  draped  in 
soft,  flowing  white,"  he  interrupted,  in  a  dramatic 
tone. 

Elise  laughed  and  put  out  a  deprecating  hand, 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  I  see  at  last.  I  have  often  wondered 
that  you  didn't  ask  me  to  explain,  and  then  again  I 
forgot  it  entirely.  If  you  will  pardon  my  delinquenc}', 
your  mind  shall  be  at  once  relieved;  and  really  your 
patience  deserves  a  more  choice  bit  of  intelligence 
than  I  have  to  offer,  for  it  wasn't  anything  at  all. 
It  was  only  about  your  costume.  Lily  and  I  had  been 


136  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

talking  about  it,  and  she  thought  I  spoke  disparagingly 
of  it.  That  was  a  great  while  ago,"  she  said,  in  an 
explanatory  tone, •"  and  I  didn't  know  }rou,  and  hadn't 
studied  the  Greek  costume." 

"  But  just  what  was  it  ?  Your  method  of  throw- 
ing light  is  wonderfully  effective,  I  confess,  in  render- 
ing the  shadows  more  conspicuous,"  he  laughed. 

"Well,  I  thought  that  the  pre-Raphaelite  costume 
had  the  advantage  in  symbolism." 

Channing  was  intently  regarding  her.  "  Don't -you 
admire  the  dress?  "  he  asked,  with  surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  admire  the  dress,  but  I  don't  admire  the 
inconsistency ! " 

"Upon  that  principle,  you  necessitate  my  admira- 
tion of  Miss  Archer." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  blushful  protestation. 

" '  Consistency  is  a  jewel,'  "  he  replied  to  her  eyes. 
"  So  saith  tlie  poet." 

There  was  a  pretty  mingling  of  innocent  frankness 
and  modest  confusion  in  her  manner,  as  she  said,  a 
little  thoughtfully : 

"  The  inconsistency  does  come  though — in  flashes, 
just  like  the  gleam  of  the  opal." 

"  Don't  let  that  mystery  becloud  your  bright  life," 
he  said  kindly. 

She  had  removed  her  necklace  and  placed  it  in  her 
lap:  she  lifted  the  flashing  gems  as  suddenly  as  she 
had  displaced  them,  and  said,  with  bright  resolution: 

"  Well,  here  goes ! "  clasping  them  around  her 
neck.  "I'll  wear  the  opals  and  bear  the  blame  of 
being  born  in  the  most  beautiful  month  of  the  year  !  " 

"  Quite  right  you  are.  Opals  cannot  kill  you — 
cannot  hurt  you." 

"  How  could  they  hurt  me  ?  I  am  living  it  down, 
Mr.  Earle." 

"  The  superstition?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  absently.  "  I  discard  in  toto  the 
idea  of  their  being  the  harbinger  of  evil,  or  ominous 
of  misfortune  or  failure  in  life,  and  yet  some  queer 
things  have  happened,"  she  said,  looking  intently  on 
vacancy  in  the  distance. 


THE  FIRST  GREEK  FESTIVAL.  137 

"  I  judge,  from  what  your  confidence  has  imparted 
to  me  on  this  subject,  that  3*011  have  inherited  a  scrap 
of  love  of  the  marvellous,"  he  said,  "but  your  good 
sense  must  confirm  your  affirmation  that  opals  can- 
not be  portentous  of  evil.  This  'noble  opal,'  withits 
delicate  rainbow  tints,  is  only  a  rare  variety  of  silica, 
one  of  the  most  abundant  minerals  in  the  earth's 
crust." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  interrupted.  "  I  have  studied 
the  subject  thoroughly.  Beautiful  little  innocents  !  " 
she  said,  resting  her  cheek  upon  a  cluster  gathered 
in  her  hand.  "  It  is  a  shame  to  abuse  you  so." 

But  there  was  a  touch  of  sadness  in  her  voice,  and 
Channing,  who  had  unwittingly  led  her  thoughts 
into  this  current,  made  haste  to  dispel  the  shadow. 

"But  to  return  to  the  previous  question,"  he 
said,  smiling.  "  You  see  I  am  not  getting  that  ille- 
gally-postponed information.  You  were  so  good  as  to 
label  me.  Miss  Elise,  will  you  also  kindly  explain 
me  the  class?"  And  straightening  himself  to  his 
fullest  proportions  he  called  out,  indicating  his  mean- 
ing by  graceful  pantomime : 

"  Class  number  one,  now  in  order  for  the  lec- 
ture ! " 

Elise  dismissed  her  forebodings,  and  accepted  the 
bantering  challenge  with  her  usual  spirit. 

"  This  is  it,  you  see .'  You  adopt  Greek  costume — 
that  implies  a  discipleshipto  Greek  manners  and  Greek 
thought.  But  you  talk  and  act  like  a  man  of  the  nine- 
teenth century — and  you  haven't  the  Greek  plausible- 
ness — the  Greek  strategy — the  'Greek-honey' " 

"  That  is  hard  on  a  Monboddo,"  he  interrupted, 
laughing. 

"Nor  the  Greek  art  of  dissimulation,"  she  con- 
tinued. 

"  More  flattering  to  me  than  to  the  model  Greek, 
I  find  after  all,  is  your  picture." 

"But  if  adoption  of  a  costume  implied  imitation  of 
the  character  from  which  it  was  borrowed,  the  ladies 
would  all  be  transformed  into  the  senseless  beauties 


138  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

of  the  harem  with  their  suspicions  and  intrigues." 

Elise  looked  puzzled  but  incredulous. 

"  The  fascinating  bung  in  which  ladies  revel  (by 
the  way,  yours  has  kindly  caught  a  delicate  wave)  is 
after  the  Turkish  pattern,"  he  said,  with  an  amused 
smile  at  her  bewilderment,  "and  the  insidious  bangles 
are  borrowed  from  the  Orient !  " 

"  But  Ave  don't  pretend  to  like  those  Orientals  or  to 
consider  them  our  models,"  she  said  quickly.  "  We 
only  wear  them  because  it  is  the  fashion  and  they 
'  become  '  us." 

"  We  confidently  expect  Fashion  to  catch  up  our 
dress  as  a  delicious  novelty  before  veiy  long — and 
make  it  the  rage  :  that  it  is  '  becoming '  is  the  unan- 
imous verdict  of  the  ladies,  and  it  goes  without  say- 
ing that  it  is  comfortable  and  convenient  as  well  as 
picturesque." 

"  But  ought  not  our  dress  to  be  symbolic?"  she 
urged. 

"  It  would  be  charming  to  carry  out  the  idea  of  a 
moral  significance,  Miss  Elise,  but  that  has  not  been 
exactly  my  view,"  he  replied.  "That  it  has  a  power- 
ful dramatic  quality,  enhancing  or  marring  the  value 
of  scenes  on  life's  stage  is  strikingly  apparent  and 
universally  conceded.  Fancy  a  dandy  masquerading 
as  a  teacher,  or  a  bespangled  and  beflounced  belle  as 
a  housewife,  or  a  starched  divine  as  a  gymnast,  or  a 
tinkling  zany  as  a  priest !  Cleopatra  dressed  in  rags 
would  not  have  captured  Cresar,  and  Henry  Eighth 
would  have  found  some  difficulty  in  overawing  his  sub- 
jects in  a  plain  jersey  and  trunk-hose.  Magnificence 
and  richness  of  dress,  in  each  case,  was  a  potent  factor 
in  arriving  at  the  product  of  servility.  The  one  could 
outrival  Antony's  lavish  expense  on  a  dinner  by  swal- 
lowing a  dissolved  pearl,  and  the  other  severed  the 
papal  connection  and  established  himself  '  Head  of 
the  Church '  by  velvet  and  cloth-of-gold  vestments, 
with  diamond,  ruby,  and  pearl  fastenings. 

"Suppose,  Miss  Elise,  we  commence  our  reforma- 
tion with  the  bangs,"  he  said,  laughing.  "  Are  you 


THE  FIRST  GEEEK  FESTIVAL.  139 

ready  to  sacrifice  that  precious  adornment  and  keep 
the  hair  long,  as  the  Scriptures  ordain,  declaring  that 
it  is  your  glory?  You  know  how  Isaiah  berated  the 
Jewish  maidens  for  their  crisping-pins  and  the  wimples 
and  head-bands,  and  tablets,  and  mufflers — 

"  But  I  would  look  frightful !  "  she  said,  laughing  ; 
"  you  wouldn't  like  it." 

"It  has  taken  some  time,"  he  said,  "to  elevate 
ourselves  up  to  the  standard  of  supreme  and  bewitch- 
ing dishevel  me  ut  of  the  front  hair  now  in  vogue,  and 
doubtless  we  should  part  with  our  visions  with  a  sigh 
— but  in  time,  we  could  be  reconciled  to  a  noble 
showing  of  brow,  I  fancy." 

"Oh!  oh!"  she  laughed,  "you  are  turning  the 
whole  thing  into  ridicule.  It  is  a  serious  matter,  isn't 
it,  when  it  begins  at  home  ?  But  truly,  if  there  was 
any  principle  involved  in  the  hair-management — 3-011 
see  I  have  not  said  one  word  about  your  Olympian- 
locks — I  would  abandon  my  style  ;  but  there  isn't, 
is  there  ?  " 

He  was  looking  critically  at  the  top  of  her  head, 
that  to  liis  view  had  never  looked  so  queenly,  and  as 
he  did  not  immediately  reply,  she  continued: 

"  Unless  you  expressly  object  to  my  wearing  a  bang,. 
I  will  leave  that  reform  to  the  next  generation ! 
They  take  up  ne\v  things  easily." 

What  a  melody  was  singing  in  his  heart;  her 
eyes  had  a  wonderful  softness  as  she  looked  into  his. 
Did  she  then  really  care  foi1  him?  But  the  ecstatic 
thrill  of  the  moment  was  succeeded  by  a  forced  calm, 
as  he  replied  with  a  doubtful — 

"  Well — permit  me,  Miss  Elise," — turning  her 
face  round  to  view  the  profile  effect  of  the  Grecian 
knot  and  brow — and  then  added  gently,  "  What  you 
wish  is  also  my  decree*  Yes,  we  will  leave  it  to  the 
next  generation  !  But  there  are  some  burdens  that 
we  of  the  present  generation  must  carry,  you  know, 
the  chief  one  of  which  I  consider  a  banishment  from 
your  presence,"  he  said,  as  he  saw  Dresson  approach- 
ing. 


140  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  But  why  need  you  go  ?  "  she  urged.  "  I  am  not  half 
through  my  lecture,"  she  added,  laughing.  "  I  wanted 
to  say  that  it  is  a  shame  that  women  cannot  be  reform- 
ers in  anything,  not  even  in  the  matter  of  their  own 
dress.  Doctor  Carpenter  expatiates  before  the  Sani- 
tary Congress  in  New  Castle  on  the  sinful  absurdity 
of  tight  stays  and  shoes  with  high  heels  and  pointed 
toes,  and  Count  Ziegler  is  another  agitator,  and  Mr. 
Roberts  still  another,  on  the  enormities  of  modern 
costume ;  but  we  can't  eradicate  the  comfortable 
superstition  from  our  sisters'  minds  that  we  are  in 
possession  of  the  ideal  costume — else  why  do  they 
cling  to  it  so  ?  " 

Her  utterance  had  been  rapid  and  her  tone  had  in 
it  a  kind  of  smothered  impatience  with  women  in 
general  and  Mr.  Earle  in  particular,  as  she  paused 
suddenly  and  turned  to  greet  Dresson. 

"  There  is  the  evangel  of  the  Divided-skirt,  you 
know,"  Channing  said  upon  leaving;  "  perhaps  your 
friend  would  advise  that  championship." 


WHAT  THE  "-NEW  ERA"  SAID.  141 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHAT   THE    "  NEW    ERA  "   SAID. 

THE  next  day  there  appeared  flaming  accounts  of 
the  Fe*te  in  the  morning  and  evening  dailies,  and  in 
the  New  Era — the  organ  of  the  Academia  della 
Crusca — tliere  were  the  following  notices  in  the 
society-column  : 

"  Dr.  Healey's  well-appointed  mansion  was  the 
theater  last  evening  of  a  phenomenal  display,  which 
in  point  of  artistic  elegance,  classic  aestheticism  and 
radiant  personnel  has  perhaps  rarely  been  equaled — 
certainly  never  upon  this  continent. 

All  the  6lite  of  the  village  were  present,  besides 
an  importation  of  foreign  celebrities.  The  occasion 
was  the  inauguration  of  the  Greek  Festival,  the  first 
of  a  series,  and  Mrs.  Healey  and  her  charming  friend 
have  had  a  triumph  in  the  brilliant  success  of  their 
elaborate  scheme.  The  whole  scene  was  marked  with 
an  Sclat  that  will  not  soon  be  forgotten  by  those  who 
had  the  honor  to  be  present. 

"  With  the  exception  of  a  few  straggling  trousers, 
which  were  as  ornamental  in  that  picturesque  gather- 
ing as  leafless  forked  twigs  in  a  garden  of  flowers, 
the  scene  was  pre  eminently  pictorial  — a  moving  tab- 
leau of  the  refined  historic  period  in  Greece,  when 
the  elaborate  richness  of  material  and  of  embroidered 
draperies  that  characterized  the  costumes  of  the 
Homeric  age  was  supplanted  by  the  more  subtle  dis- 
tinctions of  a  cultivated  taste.  '  Archaic  rudeness  and 
rustic  extravagance  became  refined  grace  and  classic 
harmony.'  Instead  of  he  battle  scenes  and  animal 
figures  of  the  Homeric  age  for  embroidery-subjects, 


142  THE  OPAL  QUKKtf. 

the  simpler  designs  of  flowers  were  in  vogue,  and  the 
decorations  in  great  measure  confined  to  the  borders 
of  the  garments ;  and  the  fancy  and  skill  of  the 
wearers  were  exercised  in  the  various  ingenious  modes 
of  making  the  peplum  form  'grand  and  contrasted 
draperies.' 

"  As  this  garment  was  seldom  fastened  by  clasps  or 
buttons,  it  was  kept  upon  the  shoulders  by  the  intri- 
cacy of  its  involutions  ;  this  arrangement,  together 
with  the  picturesque  kolpos,  or  hanging  corners  of  the 
loose  ends  of  the  chiton,  produced  those  bewitching 
classic  folds  in  drapery  which  are  the  passion  of  every 
sculptor. 

"  The  material  used  in  the  dresses  last  evening  was 
chiefly  cashmere,  albatross  or  some  soft,  warm  mate- 
rial, which  would  admit  of  flowing  lines  in  that 
pleasing  art  of  costuming  which  drapes  but  does  not 
conceal  the  form. 

"  Did  our  space  permit,  we  would  gladly  indulge  in 
individual  mention  of  an  assemblage  characterized  by 
harmony  without  a  blemish,  where  all  were  stars,— 
but  a  few  may  be  mentioned  as  types  of  the  others. 

"The  bewitching  Miss  Starr  personated  Athene  in 
the  diplax.  This,  we  will  explain  for  the  benefit  of  the 
uninitiated,  is  a  himation  or  outer  garment  (called 
sometimes  peplum),  folded  double,  and  so  arranged 
over  the  chiton  or  tunic  as  to  give  the  effect  of  two 
overskirts  ;  the  upper  and  shorter  one  hanging  down 
in  a  point  in  front,  and  the  other  end  of  it  falling 
gracefully  over  the  bosom  or  on  one  side  like  a  wide 
scarf.  A  small  downy  collar  of  the  albatross,  worn 
low  around  the  neck  and  fastened  with  a  Gorgon- 
headed  brooch,  and  a  helmet  and  sandals  completed 
the  simple  but  elegant  costume. 

"  Pre-eminent  among  the  shining  throng  stood  the 
charming  and  accomplished  hostess,  Mrs.  Heale}r,  in 
the  fascinating  garb  of  Hygeia^  with  white  cashmere 
himation  partly  twisted  round  the  body  as  a  girdle, 
a  diadem,  and 

'  A  veil  of  richest  texture  wrought  she  wears,' 


WHAT  THE  "NEW  ERA  "  SAID.  143 

hanging  from  it  over  her  shoulders  nearly  to  the 
ground.  The  chaste  and  refined  elegance  of  this  cos- 
tume \vas  universally  admired.  We  fancy  we  seethe 
Doctor's  ruling  in  the  admirable  choice,  and  if  Mrs. 
Ilealey  should  succeed  in  making  it  fashionable,  the 
village  would  maintain  the  pair  in  luxury,  as  its  just 
debt  for  stealing  the  Doctor's  now  lucrative  practice. 
"But  the  Queen  of  the  evening, as  also  the  Queen  of 
love,  whom  she  so  fittingly  represented,  was  the  bril- 
liant Miss  Archer  as  Aphrodite.  The  wool  chiton- 
spun  like  gauze  reaching  to  the  feet  was  embroidered 
in  rosebuds  through  its  whole  web,  and  an  ex- 
quisitely embroidered  iridescent  peplum  hung  in 
bewitching  folds  around  the  body,  and  then  passed 
over  the  head  as  a  veil.  We  can  imagine  Miss 
Archer  in  the  restoration  of  those  long  forgotten  pro- 
cesses of  the  toilet,  so  glowingly  described  by  the 
greatest  epic  poet : 

"  '  Thus  while  she  breathed  of  heaven,  with  decent  pride 
Her  artful  hands  the  radiant  tresses  tied  ; 
Part  o'er  her  head  in  shining  ringlets  rolled, 
Part  o'er  her  shoulders  waved  like  melted  gold. 
Around  her  neck  a  heavenly  mantle  flowed, 
That  rich  with  Pallus1  labored  colors  glowed  ; 
Large  clasps  of  gold  the  foldings  gathered  round, 
A  golden  zone  her  swelling  bosom  bound, 
Far-beaming  pendants  trembling  in  her  ear, " 
Each  gem  illumined  with  a  triple  star. 
Then  o'er  her  head  she  cast  a  veil  more  white 
Than  new-fallen  snow  and  dazzling  as  the  light. 
Last,  her  fair  feet  celestial  sandals  grace.' 

"  The  elegant  Miss  Love  wore  garments  of  saffron 
hue  ;  her  clasp-fastened  chiton  was  richly  embroi- 
dered down  the  front,  and  a  veil  fell  from  her  tiara 
back  over  her  shoulders  to  the  ground.  The  Greek 
poets  hint  of  the  '  overwhelming  effect '  of  this 
colored  robe  in  fascinating  men  ;  that  it  was  not  lost 
upon  the  moderns  we  may  judge  by  the  admirers 
that  thronged  around  the  fair  wearer.  Have  we  not, 
indeed,  a  rude  homely  rhyme  repeated  by  our  grand- 
mothers as  extant  in  their  day  which  recognizes  the 
same  truth? 


144  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


"  '  Red  and  yellow 
Catch  a  fellow.' 


"  As  one  of  the  proofs  of-  the  influence  of  the  color 
in  Greece,  in  one  of  the  Greek  plays  the  poet  repre- 
sents the  father-in-law  of  Euripides  disguising  him- 
self as  a  woman,  in  a  saffron-colored  robe,  in  order 
to  plead  for  the  tragic  poet  at  the  Thesmophoria. 

"  Miss  Smart's  profusion  of  cropped  ringlets  served 
her  well  in  the  character  of  Electra.  She  wore  a 
mauve  velvet  tunic  embroidered  in  single  flowers 
throughout,  clasped  on  the  shoulders  and  girded  at 
the  waist ;  her  peplum  with  decorated  border  was 
disposed  gracefully  about  her  person. 

"  Miss  Bnnce  figured  admirably  as  a  Bacchante  with 
her  thyrsus.  She  wore  a  chiton  with  an  embroidered 
border  overgirt  with  a  diploidion,  also  decorated  with 
bands  ;  the  short  sleeves  were  gathered  into  a  band, 
and  had  also  bands  running  lengthwise  like  insertion. 
A  long  gauze  scarf  with  embroidered  ends  and  silken 
stars  all  through  it,  part  floating,  part  draping  her 
with  a  matchless  grace,  completed  this  airy  costume, 
which  was  the  nearest  approach  to  the  modern  of 
any  style  represented. 

"Miss  Sternm,  whose  willowy  figure  is  the  very 
poetry  of  moti-on,  wore  the  dress  of  a  '  flute-player  '- 
a  cream-colored  tunic  and  peplum — the  latter  dis- 
posed loosely  around  her  body  and  caught  up  in 
front,  with  stars  all  through  it,  and  a  rich  border 
in  scrolls  and  points — a  deeply  effective,  graceful 
costume. 

"  Another  pleasing  type  was  Artemis,  with  tunic  let 
down  to  the  ground,  so  arranged  as  to  present  the 
appearance  of  sleeves,  by  bringing  the  folds  of  the 
chiton  together  on  the  shoulders,  and  fastening  them 
down  to  the  elbow  with  buttons  or  agraffes,  so  that 
at  intervals  the  naked  flesh  showed  between  ;  she  wore 
a  decorated  girdle  and  a  long  veil  falling  down  behind 
in  many  folds,  and  fastened  with  a  diamond  rose,  by 
the  two  narrow  ends  in  front  on  the  bosom.  This 
distingu^  costume  appeared  upon  Miss  St.  John. 


WHAT  THE  "  NE\V  ERA  "  SAID.  145 

"  For  matronly  ladies  there  were  some  elegant  and 
appropriate  modes :  one  of  great  simplicity  was  the 
double  chiton  or  diploidion,  having  the  effect  of  a 
loose  sacque.  It  was  embroidered  around  the  border 
and  the  himation  was  carried  upon  the  arm  in  case 
of  need. 

"  Another  very  plain  but  effective  drapery  was  the 
long-sleeved  chiton  with  himation  forming  a  diagonal 
overskirt  and  falling  over  the  chest  in  loose  folds. 
This  appeared  with  or  without  a  veil. 

"  The  himation  worn  around  the  body  and  over 
the  head  as  a  veil,  sleeves  of  the  chiton  down  to  the 
elbow,  the  two  sides  linked  together  by  agraffes,  was 
another  popular  style  for  middle-aged  ladies. 

"  Athene  wearing  the  goat's  skin  was  a  favorite 
figure  ;  the  tunic  with  short,  unadorned  sleeves  had 
the  under  part  pulled  up  through  the  girdle — two 
legs  of  the  skin  crossed  in  front  over  the  bosom  with 
a  clasp,  and  the  other  two  fell  down  at  the  sides  over 
the  body.  The  whole  was  confined  above  the  hips 
with  a  zone,  and  made  a  very  picturesque  costume. 

"  The  dressing  of  the  hair  was  of  the  pure  Grecian 
type ;  it  was  braided  or  curled  and  bound  by  bands, 
it  was  Ornamented  with  rows  of  beads,  wreaths  of 
flowers,  '  nettings,  fillets,  skewers,  and  innumerable 
gewgaws.'  The  head  was  adorned  with  the  bushel- 
shaped  crown  or  the  crescent-shaped  'diadem.  The 
sandals  were  tied  by  strings  '  disposed  in  a  variety  of 
elegant  ways  across  the  instep  and  around  the  ankle.' 
Some  wore  shoes  or  half-boots  laced  before  and  lined 
with  fur.  Earrings,  necklaces,  and  bracelets  in  the 
form  of  hoops  or  snakes  for  the  upper  and  lower  arms 
were  in  endless  variety  and  profusion. 

"  White,  with  variegated  embroidery,  was  the  pre- 
vailing color  for  the  robes,  and  the  diamond  was  the 
prevailing  stone.  It  was  a  glittering,  unique,  ever- 
to-be-remembered  pageant.  Dr.  Healey,  the  honored 
and  genial  host,  proclaimed,  to  the  infinite  amuse- 
ment of  the  guests,  that  those  who  were  too  classic 
to  partake  of  a  substantial  modern  refection,  would 


146  THE  OPAL  QtfEElf.      . 

find  lilies  and  sunflowers  and  orations  and  poetry  set 
out  d  la  mode  in  the  library. 

"  It  is  needless  to  say  that  there  was  ample  justice 
done  to  the  sumptuous  banquet  by  real,  vitalized 
Americans,  who  proved  to  be  Greeks  only  as  to  their 
dress. 

"  We  say  nothing  of  the  costume  of  the  gentlemen, 
as  the  Monbodd'oes  have  made  our  reading  public 
familiar  with  it.  It  was  characterized  by  the  usual 
good  taste,  with  a  sprinkling  of  white  in  the  midst  of 
the  conventional  purple. 

"  Conspicuous  among  the  brilliant  throng  of 
gentlemen  was  our  distinguished  townsman,  Chan- 
ning  Earle,  Jr.,  as  Anchises. 

"  '  A  robe  of  military  purple  flowed 

O'er  all  his  frame  ;  illustrious  on  his  breast 

The  double-clasping  gold  the  king  confest. 

Fine  as  a  filmy  web  beneath  it  shone 

A  vest  that  dazzled  like  a  cloudless  sun. 

The  female  train,  who  round  him  thronged  to  gaze 

In  silent  wonder,  sighed  unwilling  praise.' 

"After  this  compliment  to  the  phenomenally  modest 
youth,  we  may  as  well  arrange  our  private  affairs  and 
prepare  for  the  traditional  editor's  bullet." 


DOUBTS.  147 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

DOUBTS. 

"  Too  innocent  for  coquetry,  too  fond  for  idle  scorning 
Oh  !  friend,   I  fear  the  lightest  heart  makes  sometimes  heaviest 
mourning." 

Mrs.  Norton. 

"  SEE,  Lily,  what  Otto  has  brought  me  !  "  said 
Elise,  gliding  into  the  room  where  Mrs.  Healey  was 
sitting,  and  holding  up  great  bundles  of  the  clero- 
dendron.  "  It  seems  like  wrenching  one  of  nature's 
pretty  secrets  out  of  her  bosom  to  tear  it  away  from 
its  rocky  hiding-place  so  soon.  Quite  enterprising, 
wasn't  it?  I  suppose  he  had  a  good  hunt  for  them." 

It  was  early  for  the  graceful  blossom,  and  the  deli- 
cate clusters  had  a  fine  expressiveness  to  Elise,  as 
she  busied  herself  with  their  arrangement  in  vases. 

"  k  Quite  a  hunt ' !  "  said  the  Doctor,  who  had  been 
apparently  absorbed  in  his  newspaper,  "pretty  tough 
on  his  pre-Raphaelitism.  Why,  he  had  to  go  all  the 
way  to  Grand  and  Albemarle,  before  lie  found  the 
traditional  'small  boy,'  who  is  wonderfully  effective, 
Miss  Elise,  in  supplementing  one's  own  work,  you 
know,  in  such  matters.  To  Hunt  the  boy  and  pay 
the — let  me  see  !  "  he  said,  massing  the  bunches  to- 
gether again — "yes,  that  is  just  about  what  they 
cost  him,  a  couple  of  dollars— that  is  the  hard  part; 
the  trifling  matter  of  gathering  them  is  not  worth 
mentioning." 

The  rose  faded  out  of  Elise's  cheek  which  the 
thought  of  her  lover's  devotion  had  heightened,  for 
the  Doctor  had  not  spared  his  banter  of  late  on 
Dresson's  laziness,  and  Elise,  though  keenly  sensitive 


148  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

to  his  disparagement,  had  usually  accepted  it  in  the 
light,  jesting  way  it  was  given. 

But  to-night  she  was  not  quice  up  to  the  Doctors 
pitch  of  expression. 

She  could  not  tell  why,  but  she  felt  weary,  un- 
strung. Bresson  had  spent  the  entire  evening  with 
her,  and  she  found  herself  every  moment  growing 
duller.  She  tried  to  arouse  herself,  and  manufacture 
a  sympathy  in  his  discourse  to  brighten  up,  but 
she  felt  as  though  she  was  in  the  weary  round  of  a 
treadmill.  Dresson  had  given  her  no  time  for  sup- 
plementary study  on  his  enunciated  art  views,  and 
she  had  worn  her  own  knowledge  threadbare  on  the 
fruitful  science  of  aesthetics.  She  had  travelled  with 
him  from  Frankfort-on-the-Oder  through  Germany 
and  England  into  America,  following  in  the  wake 
of  the  much-bulletined  Oscar.  She  was  familiar 
with  the  theories  of  Schiller,  Kant,  Fichte,  Cousin, 
and  the  moderns,  Ruskin,  Rossetti,  Millais,  Holman 
Hunt,  and  wandered  through  the  regions  of  decora- 
tive art  under  the  guidance  of  "•  Morris  &  Co." 

She  had  usually  enlivened  the  discourse  and  given 
it  freshness  and  novelty  by  her  fantastic  comparisons, 
symbolical  interpretations  (for  she  was  a  devout 
admirer  of  Ruskin),  or  unexpected  sallies  into  other 
fields.  She  had  done  it  without  effort,  because  she 
had  been  her  free,  unrestrained  self.  But  the  monot- 
ony of  the  thing  was  wearing  on  her.  The  tine  play 
of  nerve  required  to  preserve  her  balance  on  high 
ground  with  frequent  somersaults  into  the  plains 
was  taxing  to  the  nervous  energy  ;  and  when  it  became 
the  settled  routine  of  a  "  season's  "  campaign,  the 
continued  strain  in  the  endeavor  to  hold  the  mind 
up  to  its  best  impressions  on  a  subject  partly  appre- 
hended through  the  refinements  of  an  instinctive  taste 
and  perception,  was  simply  disastrous— the  damage 
had  been  creeping  in  stealthily,  but  it  was  sure. 

She  was  conscious  of  inspiring  a  certain  calm  en- 
thusiasm in  her  lover,  but  this  was  no  part  of  her 
conscious  effort;  what  she  really  desired  was  to 


DOUBTS.  149 

establish  an  atmosphere  of  true  congenial  happiness. 

Dresson's  quietly  delicate  attentions  were  as  un- 
remitted,  his  canticles  of  praise  to  her  beauty  as 
numerous  and  delicious,  us  in  the  early  courtship; 
he  still  managed  the  arsis  and  thesis  of  his  voice  with 
irresistible  musical  languor,  and  called  her  "  My 
Queen  "  with  a  winning  deference — but  his  uncompro- 
mising treatment  on  art  lines  was  not  rewarded  with 
a  rapturous  ovation.  The  spontaneity  of  her  nature 
was  continually  chilling  from  the  conventionalism  of 
his.  He  attempted  to  kindle  a  flaming  love-heat 
with  the  frosty  stick  of  elegant  artificialities,  and  was 
successful  in  smothering  the  original  sparks. 

The  Doctor,  somewhat  taken  by  surprise  not  to 
hear  the  usual  playful  assertion  or  mild  defense  from 
Elise,  said  brightly: 

"  He  has  about  all  he  ought  to  do,  to  take  care  of 
you  properly.  I  used  to  think  so;  eh,  Lily?" 

Lily  laughed  and  said,  "  I  think  you  made  fewer 
pills  in  those  days.  You  remember,  Elise,  he  was  his 
own  druggist  at  M — —  Springs.  " 

At  the  mention  of  the  dear  old  days,  Elise  easily 
dismissed  the  annoyance  caused  by  the  playful  assault 
on  Dresson,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Butoh!  you  tantalizing  mortal !  you  came  pretty 
near  losing  her — didn't  he,  Lil?  And  I  was  your 
valiant  champion.  Lily  will  tell  you  so  !  " 

"Yes,  she  has  told  me,"  he  remarked,  dryly.  "I 
get  a  rehash  every  anniversary,  and  a  little= — Irish — 
is  it,  dear? — steiv  thrown  in  between,  on  days  when 
I  am  particularly  contumacious — alarming,  and  she 
wants  to  bring  me  to  the  stool  of  repentance." 

"  Now,  Doctor,"  Lily  laughed,  "Elise  will  think 
you  are  a  tyrant,  an  unmanageable  Benedict,  dissat- 
isfied with  affairs." 

"  Quite  right !  and  so  I  am,  a  tyrannical  husband 
that  eats  the  bread  of  diligence,  and  compels  his  wife 
to  grow  fat  on  the  same  diet." 

"Compels?"  protested  Lily,  laughing. 

"  That  is  what  I  said,  dear.     Did  you  never  hear  of 


150  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

the  power  of  example  that  forces  people  right  out  of 
their  boots  on  to  the  plane  of  the  exemplar?  That's 
the  way  I  force  my  wife.  Why,  I  have  drawn  more 
lambrequins  and  screens  and  tidies  and  " — glancing  all 
around  the  room — "everlasting  decorations  out  of  her 
unwilling  fingers  than  I  could  make  in  a  life-time  ! 
Nothing  like  it,  you  see!  Hold  your  wives  up  to 
your  own  high  mark,  if  you  appreciate  harmony  in 
the  household.  Eh,  Lil?  ain't  I  a  first-class  Boss?" 

"  Yes,  dear,  you  are  a  good-for-nothing  despot, 
fighting  for  harmony  and  squabbling  for  peace." 

"Now  there's  Dresson,"  continued  the  Doctor, 
"you'll  escape  all  that  with  him,  Elise.  What  you 
will  chiefly  require  in  those  halcyon  days  will  be 
ears  to  hear  and  eyes  to  see  his  lordship.;  and  if  you 
fall  short  in  either  particular,  don't  forget  that  I  am, 
besides  my  other  numerous  and  varied  offices,  a  first- 
class  aurist  and  oculist,  graduate  of  seven  schools 
and  professor  in  three  " — he  looked  at  his  watch 
— "  with  which  consoling  remark  for  your  future 
happiness,  Miss  Elise,  I  bid  you  a  respectful  good- 
night." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Lily,  "  I  hope  you  don't  have  to  go 
out  to-night  again." 

"  Only  a  short  distance  of  ten  miles,  my  dear, 
which  to  the  disciple  of  the  D.  D. — duty  and  diligence 
—is  the  merest  of  trifles." 

"  Lily,"  said  Elise,  after  a  pause,  in  which  her 
success  in  dismembering  the  clerodendron  petals  was 
distinctly  marked,  "how  did  you  feel  when  you  were 
engaged  ?  " 

Lily  laughed  outright. 

"  Yes,  I  mean  it ; "  said  Elise,  as  Lily  looked 
searchingly  into  her  face.  "  I  would  like  to  compare 
experiences  with  somebody,  and  you  will  tell  me 
the  truth,  I  know." 

"Why,  I  felt  like  a  bird,  dear — a  gay,  uncaged  bird 
that  carols  all  day — and  I  felt  like  a  pet  lamb  that 
wanted  to  follow  him  everywhere — I  felt  like — yes, 
just  like  an  angel,  dear,  so  full  of  love  to  everybody, 


DOUBTS.  151 

and  yet  like  a  frail  piece  of  humanity,  too,  but  with 
an  ark  to  run  into.  There  !  .  Is  that  explicit  enough  ? 
Have  I  illustrated  to  your  satisfaction  the  different 
phases  of  my  feelings?  Are  you  pleased  with  the 
exhibition  ?  But  that  is  only  for  you,  dear ;  I  wouldn't 
make  a  peep-show  of  my  heart  for  any  one  else." 

"  And  did  you  'feel  rested  ?  "  said  Elise,  plaintively. 

Lily  nodded — "  Rested  and  refreshed  always  !  " 

"  Well,  perhaps,  it  isn't  always  so — but  I  thought 
it  would  be,"  Elise  said,  meditatively.  "I  thought 
that  in  the  union  of  two  loving  hearts  there  would 
be  an  indefinable  peace  and  a  kind  of  heavenly  joy — 
do  you  think  I  am  selfish,  Lil  ?  "  she  asked  abruptly. 

"  Quite  the  reverse,  dear." 

"  You  see  I  have  wanted  a  love •"-  --  she  paused  a 
little,  but  Lily  did  not  interrupt  her  thought — "to 
love  it.  Do  you  understand  ?  To  serve  it,  to  think 
for  it,  to  do  for  it,  to  spend  my  energies  for  it — and 
Lil,  perhaps  you  will  be  surprised,  but  I  know  I  could 
die  for  it !  " 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Lily,  showing  unabated  attention, 
and  thus  quietly  urging  her  on. 

'But  there's  nothing  to  do  for  Otto!"  She  folded 
her  hands  in  her  lap,  and  wore  a  look  of  resigned  sad- 
ness such  as  had  never  before  gathered  on  her  sunny 
face. 

"  I  have  been  excited  and  brilliant,  when  with  him, 
— I  mean  that  he  has  inspired  me  to  try  and  match 
his  flights,  and  my  success  has  been  really  phenom- 
enal I  must  say,  Lil,  quite  beyond  my  conception  of 
my  own  powers " 

"  I  have  observed  it  with  admiration,"  interrupted 
Lily. 

"But  somehow  lately,  the  talk  drags,  seems  wintry 
— it  isn't  vapid,  just  stale,  that  is  all.  Do  you  think 
it  is  my  fault,  Lily  ?  "  she  asked,  with  such  as  weet 
humility  and  pathos,  that  Lily  felt  hot  tears  stealing 
into  her  eyes  as  she  said  tenderly : 

"  I  think  you  expected  something  more,  dear,  and 
are  a  little  disappointed.  But  you  are  all  tired  out, 


152  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

thutisthe  chief  trouble.  I  have  been  thinking  for 
some  time  that  the  reaction  must  come.  Doctor  must 
give  you  a  tonic,  and  he  will  insist  upon  more  rest 
and  quiet,  I  am  sure,  and  if  he  don't,  I  shall ;  and 
with  our  combined  treatment,  you'll  come  up  to  your 
normal  standard,  and  then  you  can  better  judge 
whether  your  chosen  'rest'  is  just  the  rest  you  need  " 
— she  emphasized  the  word  and  Elise  knew  what  she 
meant.  "-Dark  thoughts, like  hawks,  are  apt  to  turn 
out  in  the  night,  and  now — do  you  know  it  is  past 
midnight?  In  the  morning,  quite  likely  you  will 
wonder  that  you  could  have  imagined  you  were  tired." 
And  so  it  seemed  to  be.  Sleep  knit  up  the  few 
tangled  threads  of  her  care  and  left  no  sign  of  miss- 
ing stitches,  and  when  she  awoke  her  eyes  had  taken 

"That  hyaline  lustre,  dewy,  deep, 
Of  violets  when  they  first  awaken." 


SUMMER  TOURING.  153 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SUMMER   TOURING. 

"  Let  me  deem  that 

Some  unknown  influence,  some  sweet  oracle, 
Communicates  between  us,  though  unseen, 
In  absence,  and  attracts  us  to  each  other." 

Byron. 

DURING  the  oppressive  heat  of  the  early  May, 
Elise  sought  the  more  northern  latitude  of  her  Aunt 
Gray's  home.  Dresson  did  not  follow  her.  He  pre- 
ferred a  run  across  the  Atlantic  and  a  skimming 
flight  on  the  Continent  during  the  months  that  Elise 
would  be  gone,  and  then — with  propitious  fate,  which 
he  hoped  for — he  would  bend  all  the  energies  of  his 
genius  to  the  consummation  of  his  hopes.  He  had 
been  seeking  since  the  betrothal  for  the  privileged 
moment  of  her  acquiescence  to  this  event,  and  had 
been  rewarded  with  a  view  of  its  vanishing  point  in 
the  dim  perspective.  He  faintly  perceived  a  shadowy 
disinclination  on  the  part  of  his  betrothed  to  the  mar- 
riage scheme,  but  with  the  complacency  of  egotism 
had  ignored  this  veiled  indifference,  ascribing  it  to 
the  natural  hesitation  of  a  beautiful,  independent 
woman  to  divide  her  dominion  or  resign  any  part  of 
her  own  sweet  will — for  Dresson  had  views  original, 
as  well  as  aesthetic,  on  the  just  "  values  "  obtainable 
in  the  marriage  relation. 

It  was  an  arrangement  for  mutual  convenience,  and 
the  best  development  of  the  harmonious  sphere  of 
each.  He  was  a  believer  in  Scripture  to  this  extent, 
that  the  man  is  the  head  of  the  woman,  and  the  oracle 
which  (when  she  desires  to  enlighten  her  'ignorance) 
she  is  privileged  to  consult  in  the  privacy  of  her  own 


154  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

home.  Her  wish  should  be  subordinated  to  her  lord, 
and  she  would  find  her  chief  happiness  in  polishing 
up  the  shining  light  of  his  character,  and  be  never  so 
charming  as  in  the  reflected  luster  of  modest  and  sil- 
very radiance  derived  from  the  occupation.  "Soft- 
ened gleams,  not  dazzling  brightness,"  he  was  wont 
to  say,  ''should  glow  like  a  halo  around  the  Queen  of 
the  Household." 

He  had  not  in  his  monologues  on  these  points  to 
Elise  used  the  word  "  obedience  "  to  indicate  what  he 
considered  the  normal  relation  between  the  contract- 
ing parties,  and  he  had  carefully  avoided  any  show  of 
disagreement  with  her  stated  opinions.  He  perceived 
that  while  she  was  a  woman  with  strong  convictions, 
when  she  loved  she  could  be  governed  perfectly 
through  her  affections,  and  what  might  go  for  techni- 
cal obedience  was  only  the  spontaneous  gift  of  a  heart 
on  fire  with  the  sacrificial  flame.  He  did  not  fear 
any  real  cessation  of  daily  and  hourly  offerings  upon 
the  altar  of  his  divinity,  although  he  sometimes 
fancied  there  was  an  abatement. 

Elise  had  entered  into  the  engagement  with  all  the 
ardor  of  her  enthusiastic,  loving  nature,  and,  revelling 
in  its  wealth,  suffused  with  the  atmosphere  of  her 
own  rosy  joy,  was  happy  in  the  possession  of  an  ideal 
love.  It  hung  around  her  like  an  aureole,  it  gave  her 
a  perpetual  beatitude,  and  it  glorified  all  in  her  pres- 
ence. She  did  not  realize  for  many  weeks  the  lack 
of  spontaneity  on  the  part  of  her  lover,  or  suspect 
that  his  moderated  and  elaborated  punctiliousness  of 
devotion  was  anything  less  than  a  genuine  love  in 
many  thicknesses  of  wrapping — nor  stop  to  think  that 
the  more  numerous  the  envelopes  the  smaller  the 
treasure  when  once  it  was  fairly  liberated  from  its 
waxen  cerements.  It  had  been  sweet  to  love  thus ; 
but  the  reaction  had  given  .faint  tokens  of  appearance 
when  the  pleading  heart  asked  to  be  loved  in  equal 
measure. 

So  she  was  drifting  on  the  sunless  sea  of  her  own 
faithfulness  ;  her  natural  buoyancy  and  transcendent 


SUMMER  TOURING.  155 

hopefulness  always  lifting  her  above  depressions  or 
sharp  crags  of  disappointment  along  in  the  smooth 
current  of  loving  endeavor.  This  seeming  good  had 
been  sent  to  her — she  would  make  the  most  of  it. 

Something  for  better  or  for  worse  was  sure  to  come 
in  October,  the  month  of  fateful  happenings,  an 
inner  whisper  suggested,  and  she  could  wait — why 
should  there  be  unseemly  haste  to  take  such  a  mo- 
mentous step  ?  And  she  thought,  too,  that  Dresson 
would  miss  her  when  they  were  parted,  and  come  to 
her  with  a  new  devotion  which  would  be  the  expo- 
nent of  a  more  earnest  purpose  in  a  real  life-plan,  and 
a  truer,  deeper,  and  more  comprehensive  sympathy 
with  what  was  best  in  her  nature. 

They  summered  quietly  in  a  lovely  Wisconsin  wild 
— doubly  charming  because  it  was  comparatively 
unknown  to  pleasure-seekers,  and  had  not  yet  been 
overrun  by  the  enterprising  tourists  who  draw  into 
their  wake  the  elaborate  modernized  structures  which 
encroach  upon  primeval  simplicity,  and  finally  convert 
it  into  the  artificialities  of  modern  device,  elaborate, 
costly  and — valueless ;  hideous  to  the  lover  of  country- 
life  struggling  to  free  himself  from  art-decorations 
for  a  brief,  happy  space,  and  refresh  himself  with 
rustic,  picturesque,  unconventional  nature.  But  the 
march  of  improvements  had  halted  three  degrees  to 
the  east  of  them,  and  they  were  safe,  for  this  season, 
from  the  levelling  axe  and  the  intruding  hammer. 

Doctor  and  Mrs.  Healey  joined  the  party  in  Au- 
gust, and  they  had  also  a  Hying  visit  from  Channing, 
who  was  exploring  a  part  of  the  great  and  growing 
West. 

"  Have  you  really  settled  down  like  shining  toads 
in  a  mud  neap?"  was  his  rather  ungracious  inquiry 
upon  arriving  on  a  liquid  evening  in  August,  after  a 
drive  in  a  box-wagon  through  the  roadless,  miry  clay. 
"I  had  a  suspicion  that  Miss  Archer  was  amphibious, 
but  thought  she  would  by  her  theory  of  'natural 
selection'  choose  some  less  glutinous  element,"  look- 
ing ruefully  at  the  boots  covered  with  the  slimy  inud 
up  to  the  ankle. 


156  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  But  we  are  eating  dirt — growing  fat — laying  it 
up  for  winter.  Our  porcelain  got  too  fine,  'twas  be- 
coming quite  transparent — a  slight  infusion  of  good, 
rich  dirt  will  improve  the  color  and  cohesion  of  the 
particles  as  well." 

"  Good ! "  he  said,  laughing  and  doffing  his  be- 
drabbled  coat,  "you  shall  have  my  share,  too.  But 
truly  I  can  find  no  fault  with  any  kind  of  diet  that 
builds  up  such  Hebes  ;  for  even  Mrs.  Healey  has 
stolen  a  delicate  blush,  to  distance  the  lily  which 
graces  her  name  and  her  nature." 

They  were  "camping  out"  with  all  the  conve- 
niences implied  in  the  modern  use  of  the  term. 

And  then  there  were  rides  through  the  pretty 
bridle-paths  along  the  brook,  and  days  of  unalloyed 
iov,  sauntering  through  the  umbrageous  woods,  fish- 
ing in  cool  streams  abounding  with  the  mountain 
trout,  hunting  their  venison  steaks  with  the  Doctor's 
favorite  setter,  and  delicious  rowing  on  the  embow- 
ered tiny  lake  in  an  imported  fairy  cockle-shell  which 
the  Doctor  had  christened  ';  The  Cygnus." 

Channing  Earle  went  into  all  these  sports  with  the 
zest  of  an  amateur,  succeeded  in  keeping  his  balance 
in  the  free  and  unrestrained  intercourse  which  was 
now  possible  in  Miss  Archer's  society,  and  added 
daily  to  the  stature  of  his  magnificent  manhood. 

"Don't  lean  out  so  far,  you  will  lose  your  balance, 
Mr.  Earle,"  she  cried  one  evening  in  their  sunset  row 
on  the  brook.  The  oars  were  resting  in  the  locks, 
and  as  they  glided  gently  with  the  current,  they 
picked  the  water  lilies  within  easy  reach. 

Channing  succeeded  in  capturing  the  beautiful 
pink  blossom  which  he  had  coveted,  without  capsiz- 
ing the  boat. 

"You  have  the  distinction,  Miss  Archer,  of  being 
the  only  lady  who  honors  me  with  that  title." 

The}r  had  been  chatting  with  an  innocent  gayety, 
and  Elise  looked  at  him  steadily,  not  quite  catching 
the  tone  of  his  mind.  He  continued ; 

"  I  have  grown  up  in  the  village  as  '  Channing  ' — 


SUMMER  TOURING.  157 

that  you  might  naturally  expect;  but  every  visiting 
stranger  has  quickly  availed  himself  of  the  privilege 
— if.it  is  one,"  he  said,  laughing,  "of  my  christening. 
And  yet  I  am  in  no  sense  familiar  with  any  of  the 
girls,  as  you  may  know  ;  my  student-life  and  my 
natural  inaptitudes  preventing  anything  more  than 
courteous  intercourse — 

"  The  habits  of  childhood  are  not  easily  conquered," 
Elise  interrupted;  "and  for  all  I  know,  you  may 
have  been  a  rollicking  boy,  championing  the  girls 
and  scrambling  for  their  kisses  and  favors — 

"  Quite  the  contrary,  I  assure  you,"  he  exclaimed, 
suddenly, smiling  at  the  abnormal  picture  of  himself — 
"  always  shy,  reserved,  and  dodging  their  sweet  gifts." 

"  Well,  they  still  think  of  you  as  Charming  ;  you 
can't  help  that,  and — 

"  And  wouldn't  if  I  could,"  he  interrupted. 

"  And  hearing1   vou  so  called   continuallv  bv   your 

O        »>  (  i-        f     »'          J 

mother  and  grandmother,  it  keeps  the  familiar  name 
before  them — 

"  But  how  does  that  account'for  the  newcomers?" 

"  The  newcomers,  I  opine,  have  probably  been 
gay  young  girls,  not  standing  much  on  dignity  or 
etiquette,  who  fell  easily  into  the  prevailing  mode. 
Perhaps,  Mr.  Earle,  I  have  the  advantage  of  those 
giddy  girls  in  a  few  steadying  years.  I  may  not  be  as 
young  as  I  appear."  She  was  looking  at  him  with 
a  polite,  simple  composure. 

"Just  as  you  sit  there,"  he  remarked,  with  a 
strange  irrelevancy,  "the  deepening  blue  above  you, 
the  background  of  the  fading  sunset  splendors,  and  the 
foreground  of  the  pink  and  white  lilies,  you  make 
an  ideal  picture.  May  I  take  it  for  the  figure-head 
to  my  life-boat,  Miss  Archer  ?  " 

His  voice  betrayed  a  depth  of  meaning  apart  from 
the  simple  words,  by  its  rich  intonation  of  respect- 
ful heart-full  deference  and  longing,  and  Elise  was 
puzzled  by  his  thoughtful  manner  for  a  suitable  reply. 

Had  he  dashed  it  off  with  a  brisk  cordiality  and 
offhand,  careless  air,  she  would  have  replied  on  the 


158  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

instant  in  the  same  vein.  She  was  unaccountably 
sobered,  almost  frightened,  with  his  grave  eyes  fast- 
ened upon  her  so  patiently  and  yet  so  abstractedly, 
as  though  he  was  saying  one  thing  and  thinking  of 
something  quite  remote. 

"  But  you  need  not  reply,"  he  said  in  another 
moment.  "  I  perhaps  have  transcended  my  limits  in 
the  request." 

But  Elise  hesitated  to  take  advantage  of  a  release 
which  might  wound  her  friend.  It  was  with  an  im- 
perceptible nervous  agitation  that  she  said  presently  : 

"  I  sometimes  take  pictures  without  as  much  as 
saying  '  By  your  leave.'  r 

"  Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,"  he  said  mildly, 
and  then  with  a  certain  reckless  defiance : 

"  I  intend  to  prove  myself  a  lawless  renegade 
and  smuggle  my  pictures  into  memory's  storehouse. 
I  shall  doubtless  enjoy  them  more  than  if  I  was  pro- 
tected by  license,  for  I  can  gloat  over  them  with  all 
the  satisfaction  of  a  privateer  who  knows  their  full 
cost." 

The  party  left  the  camping  field  together,  but 
Channing  was  first  on  the  home  ground,  and  Doctor 
and  Mrs.  Healey  followed.  Elise  with  her  uncle 
and  aunt  made  their  way  leisurely  toward  the  East, 
stopping  at  the  noted  watering  places  en  route. 

After  their  arrival,  Mrs.  Gray  pre-empted  a  visit, 
and  then  they  were  involved  in  the  whirl  of  shop- 
ping for  Elise's  new  home.  There  was  so  much  to  see, 
so  much  to  buy,  so  much  elegant  bric-a-brac  to  be 
collected  from  miscellaneous  and  widely  separated 
quarters,  to  give  the  charm  of  individual  taste  to  her 
new  dominions,  that  Mrs.  Healey  found  it  necessary 
to  write  several  importunate  letters  to  bring  her  to 
her  own  threshold.  And  it  was  sweet  to  rest  under 
her  own  roof-tree — her  very  own.  She  enjoyed  the 
thought  of  what  was  equally  her  strong  tower  of 
refuge  and  her  flowery  bower  of  peace — a  bower,  too, 
it  proved  to  be,  where,  unlike  Bunyan's  typical  Chris- 
tian, she  re-read  her  "  roll,"  and  got  from  it  a  new 
meaning. 


SUMMER  TOURING.  159 

Built  in  a  conglomerate  style — for  there  were  bits 
of  so  many  "  orders  "  that  Elise  considered  indispen- 
sable— it  was  yet  a  marvel  of  beauty  and  skill.  Some 
of  the  furniture  had  been  made  expressly  for  her  in 
Paris,  but  an  eminent  New  York  firm  took  the  lead 
in  the  furnishing  and  decorations,  and  when  she 
looked  around  upon  the  finished  work,  she  was 
abundantly  compensated  for  the  outlay. 

"  Otto  will  pronounce  it  a  gem,"  she  said  thought- 
fully, "  for  I  have  carried  out  some  of  his  suggestions 
and  he  will  recognize  them,  and,  perhaps  (this,  a 
little  doubtfully),  give  me  credit  for  some  originality 
of  design  and  executive  talent." 

Her  Greek  room  was  her  bijou,  her  pride  and 
delight. 

And  Dresson  came. 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  have  made  a  distinguished 
success,"  he  said,  with  so  much  emphasis  that  Elise 
was  in  a  transport  of  renewed  affection.  "  Your  color 
scheme  is  faultless — delicate  in  sentiment  and  effect- 
ively carried  out." 

"  And  how  is  my  color  scheme?"  inquired  Elise, 
holding  up  her  sun-browned,  rose-tinted  face  to  his, 
with  eyes  that  glowed  with  the  rapturous  meeting. 

"  I  cannot  say  fair,  and  I  am  loth  to  say  rich.  It 
is  full  of  freshness  and  charm,  that  goes  without 
saying,  but  it  is  a  trifle  overdone — gives  it  an  appear- 
ance of  trickiness  and  chic — not  quite  the  correct 
thing,  you  know.  You  couldn't  tone  it  with  a  fine 
powder?  Too  deucedly  bright!  you  see." 

He  had  never  ventured  that  expression  in  Elise's 
hearing  before,  and  when  she  looked  up  at  him  with 
a' little  surprise,  he  said: 

"  That's  what  a  fellow  gets  from  mingling  with  those 
English  cockneys — but  it  wears  off  soon,  you  know." 

"  How  do  you  like  your  Jason  ?"  he  inquired,  as 
they  were  viewing  the  frescoed  walls.  I  saw  Wil- 
liam himself  in  London,  and  told  him  of  your  chef 
d'ceuvre,  and  he  volunteered  to  work  up  the  designs 
himself  from  scenes  in  his  poems,  you  know.  lie- 


1GO  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

chercht !  I  must  say,"  he  continued,  as  he  stood  off 
looking  through  his  single  eyeglass — "minute  in 
detail  but  broad  in  touch  !  By  thunder,  that  man  is 
a  genius !" 

"  Why,  dear,"  said  Elise,  laughing  in  spite  of  her- 
self, in  a  slightly  remonstrating  tone  ;  "is  that  only 
fruit-bloom  too?" 

"  Oh,  nonsense,"  he  replied,  "  you  must  get  over 
these  little  affectations  of  prudery  ;  "  then  laughing, 
"  Thunder  never  hurts,  you  know,  and  the  atmosphere 
is  always  clearer  after  the  shock  ; "  but  secretly  con~ 
scious  that  he  must  recover  his  ground,  he  drew  her 
lightly  to  him  in  a  fond  embrace. 

"  And  you  are  sure  there  won't  any  lightning  come 
with  it?"  she  asked  with  playful  seriousness,  cling- 
ing to  his  arm  in  a  gentle  confidence.  "  The  light- 
ning scorches,  you  know,  and  it  is  sure  to  be  around 
about  when  there's  thunder,  even  if  it  doesn't  show." 

Dresson  had  the  easy  swagger  of  a  hunter  that  has 
bagged  his  game,  as  they  sauntered  leisurely  through 
the  sumptuous  apartments  of  which  he  was  the  pro- 
spective master.  He  had  dismissed,  as  henceforth 
useless,  the  habitual  caution  and  prudence  of  speech 
which  the  unrestraint  of  her  absence  had  gradually 
but  unconsciously  diminished  during  the  period  of 
his  irresponsible^existence  abroad,  and  made  what  to 
Elise  was  a  swift  descent,  as  he  reassumed  the  part 
that  by  nature  he  most  relished. 

Parrying  skillfully  her  question,  "  I  haven't  an 
overstock  of  admiration  for  lightning  myself,"  he  re- 
marked with  adroit  reticence,  "it's  a  trifle  too — too 
deuced  alert,  you  know,  for  a  modern  SGsthete  !  "  and 
indulged  in  the  solace  of  light  whistling  as  they  con- 
tinued the  grand  tour  of  the  rooms. 

"  It  appears  to  me,  Elise,  that  yon  have  superfluous 
closet-room.  Now,  here,"  he  said,  "  should  have  been 
a  niche  for  landscape-views,  curtained  and  warmed, 
where  one  might  lounge  and  get  sky-effects." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Elise,  "  we  have  views  all  over  the 
house,  and  Just  glory  in  closets.  I  wanted — oh ! 
—a  houseful  of  them." 


SUMMER  TOURING.  161 

"  There  is  nothing  that  so  mars  the  effect  of  a 
room  as  one  or  two  useless  closets,"  he  continued 
gravely,  looking  desperately  at  the  inoffensive  doors 
of  the  condemned  apartments.  "  They  impair  the 
symmetry  of  the  wall,  and  the  unity  of  the  design, 
and  are  so  many  avenues  for  draughts  and  stale 
odors.  Their  doors  interfere  with  the  harmonious 
arrangement  of  furniture,  and  they  are  suggestive  of 
disorder  and  uncleanliness." 

"  But  what  would  you  do  ? "  said  Elise,  falling 
from  her  seventh  heaven  of  glory  into  the  icono- 
clastic arms  of  her  lover. 

"  Furnish  with  wardrobes  for  the  immediate  neces- 
sities of  the  occupant,  and  arrange  the  closets  outside, 
in  some  less  privileged  space." 

"Would  you  block  them  up?"  she  asked,  with 
rueful  sweetness.  "It  seems  a  pity.  They  are  so 
nice.  I  am  sure  I  shall  enjoy  them  ever  so  much. 
See  here  !  "  and  she  persuaded  him  to  look  while  she 
opened  the  various  drawers  and  explained  the  patent 
or  hidden  mission  of  each. 

Dresson  had  an  abstracted  gaze  during  the  process. 

"  Now  a  wardrobe,"  he  said,  turning  away,  "  is  a 
thing  of  beauty  with  its  antique  carvings  and 
mirrored  door — 

"  But  do  see  the   mirrors,  dear,  "   she  interrupted. 

"  '  All  my  walls  are  lost  in  mirrors,  whereupon  I  trace 
Self  to  right  hand,  self  to  left  hand,  self  in  every  place.'  " 

"And  its  cosy  compactness,"  he  continued  without 
change  of  posture  or  notice  of  the  interruption.  "  Yes, 
upon  reflection,  I  think  you  would  better  remove 
this  blemish  upon  your  artistic  work." 


162  TUE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XVI.    . 

OCTOBER'S  LESSON. 

"  October!  Heaven's  delicious  breath, 
When  woods  begin  to  wear  the  crimson  leaf, 
And  suns  grow  meek,  and  the  meek  sun  grows  brief, 
And  the  year  smiles  as  drawing  near  its  death." 

Bryant. 

"  A  GENTLEMAN  wishes  to  see  you,  my  lady." 

"  Ah.  yes,"  said  Elise,  glancing  at  the  card ;  "  he  is 
my  lawyer." 

"  He  is  in  the  old-gold  reception  room,  my  lady, 
and  he  says  he  will  wait  your  convenience,"  said 
Bertha. 

"  Well,  Bertha,  that  puts  an  end  to  my  '  coaching  ' 
the  screen  decoration  this  morning,"  said  Elise,  as 
she  pushed  away  the  framed  golden-rod  and  spikes 
of  the  cardinal  flower.  "  Mortgages  and  bonds  are  not 
much  to  my  fancy,  but  nevertheless  they  must  be 
attended  to." 

Bertha  had  been  well  trained  in  the  harmony  of 
colors,  and  chose  a  receiving-room  for  the  guest  which 
would  suit  her  mistress'  toilet.  The  cardinal  silk 
robe,  daisy-painted,  would  have  a  fine  setting  in  the 
old-gold  tapestries,  and  was  of  charming  effect  any- 
where tin's  bright  October  morning,  when  art  had 
such  a  brilliant  rival  in  nature. 

"  Mr.  Drew  is  very  fond  of  daisies,  Bertha.  I  am 
sorry  not  to  have  the  real  ones,"  Elise  observed,  fasten- 
ing an  artificial  bunch  in  her  belt. 

Mr.  Drew,  although  past  sixty,  was  still  susceptible 
to  the  charms  of  a  beautiful  young  woman,  whose 
only  fault  seemed  to  be  that  she  had  nothing  to  do'. 
Blessed  with  a  flourishing  family,  Mr.  Drew  and  wife 


OCTOBER'S  LESSON.  163 

found  the  days  too  short  for  the  manifold  activities 
required  for  its  upbringing.  And  so  when  lie  en- 
tered this  Palace  Beautiful,  where  art  reigned  trium- 
phant and  the  priestess  of  it  was  the  hostess  sacrificing 
her  beauty  and  her  time  to  learn  its  mysteries,  he  felt 
it  to  be  a  veritable  "  Castle  of  Indolence "  which 
acted  like  an  anaesthetic  on  his  whole  frame,  narco- 
tizing his  vitality. 

But  he  was  ready  to  forgive  many  things  more 
glaring  and  heinous  than  supreme  devotion  to  art  in 
the  daughter  of  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Archer.  And 
although  she  was  now  a  radical  and  ultra-cult  devotee, 
she  never  quite  lost  in  his  eyes  the  na'ivet  e  and  sweetness 
which  had  characterized  her  girlhood,  and  even  a 
professional  visit  to  her  left  him  in  a  glow  of  renewed 
youth  and  quickened  sensibility;  the  fine  charm  of 
her  delicate  grace  penetrated  his  soul  as  a  subtle  odor 
does  the  senses,  filling  him  with  a  diffusive  warmth 
and  exaggerated  notion  of  the  importance  of  trifling 
courtesies  and  social  overtures.  He  did  not  under- 
stand the  secret  of  her  charm,  but  was  conscious  that  it 
touched  a  spring  in  him  that  set  all  the  music  in  him 
going  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  melody  of  her 
presence. 

Since  her  travels  abroad,  while  he  could  complain 
of  nothing  in  her  treatment  of  him — for  it  was 
friendly  in  the  last  degree— and  while  she  was  more 
attractive  than  ever  in  her  full-blossomed  beauty,  he 
missed  the  playful  banter,  the  spontaneous  vivacity, 
which  had  never  been  constrained  by  rule,  because  it 
was  the  finished  grace  of  nature  acting  through  gen- 
erous and  loyal  instincts  of  the  laws  of  truth  and 
kindness;  and  found  her  weighted  with  a  superin- 
cumbent stratum  of  formulae — a  stratification  founded, 
no  doubt,'  on  absolute  mathematical  laws  of  symmetry 
and  proportion,  but  too  complicated,  too  compact  and 
rigid  for  his  unrestrained  nature,  and  presenting 
social  features  to  which  he  had  not  found  it  necessary 
to  adjust  his  own  environment.  His  periodical  visits 
to  Elise  were,  however,  beginning  the  education  of  his 


164  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

culture  in  that  direction,  and  he  recognized  with  a 
wondering  amusement  that  the  more  he  saw  of  her  the 
more  reconciled  he  became  to  her  superlatives  and 
heavenly  harmonies,  her  aerial  career  midway  between 
heaven  and  earth,  with  its  sky-glancing,  cloud-envel- 
oping possibilities.- 

She  was  always  gracious,  always  winning,  and  he 
always  yielded  to  her  unsuspecting  blandishments 
in  spite  of  himself,  and  then  shook  it  off  in  the  outer 
air  or  in  the  realistic  abode  over  which  Mrs.  Drew 
presided,  where  order  was  discounted  and  free  and 
easy  manners  prevailed  au  naturel.  The  heaven  of 
the  "Palace  Beautiful"  required  too  great  a  stretch 
of  wing,  and  the  earth  of  Mrs.  Drew's  mansion,  was,  he 
confessed,  a  spice  too  grovelling — somewhere  midway 
between  these  extremes  would  have  been  thoroughly 
acceptable  to  him  were  it  only  in  the  calendar  of 
possibilities;  but  failing  that,  among  the  certainties 
he  could  always  count  on  Mrs.  Drew  and  the  romp- 
ing six. 

But  there  was  more  on  his  mind  this  morning  than 
life's  pomps  and  vanities,  more  even  than  the  fright- 
ful inequalities  in  rank  and  fortune.  He  had  not  to 
consider  problems  in  eesthetics  or  even  ethics,  but 
hard,  grim  mathematics,  and,  worse  than  all,  the  de- 
pressing fact  of  loss  and  failure.  It  was  a  sorry 
task,  and  the  Satsuma  vases  and  Pompeian  tripods, 
the  tapestries  and  laces  and  lacquer  cabinets  around 
him,  did  not  help  him  any — they  added  so  many  more 
figures  to  the  computation. 

Mr.  Gray  well  knew  of  the  disaster,  but  had  trans- 
ferred the  burden  of  disclosure  to  the  financial  agent 
of  Miss  Archer's  property — the  steward  who  by 
rights  was  accountable  for  its  management. 

Mr.  Drew  had  pondered  the  subject  for  several 
hours  this  morning  without  being  able  to  fix  upon  the 
exact  method  of  approach.  How  should  he  communi- 
cate the  doleful  tidings  to  the  charming  Miss  Archer, 
the  favorite  of  his  youth,  the  beloved  daughter  of  his 
tried  friend,  the  petted  child  of  fortune,  whose  millions 


OCTOBER'1  S  LESSON.  165 

had  been  entrusted  to  his  care  ?  Her  gossamer-tintings 
seemed  born  for  an  atmosphere  of  ideal  luxury  and 
ease,  from  which  his  imagination  could  not  extract  her 
and  set  her  on  the  hard  ground  of  reality  and  econ- 
omy— a  plane  where  a  moderation  so  strict  would 
have  to  be  maintained,  that  to  her,  he  doubted  not,  it 
would  be  the  galling  chains  of  poverty. 

Elise  noticed  his  abstracted  manner,  and  rallied 
him. 

"  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Drew,  you  have  too  much  on  your 
hands  ;  my  business  interests  have  assumed  such 
large  proportions,  that  for  your  better  fulfilment  of 
them  I  have  decided  to  establish  a  special  clerkship 
for  your  assistance." 

Here  was  just  the  opening  wedge  for  the  hard- 
pressed  lawyer.  ,  . 

"At  present,  Miss  Elise,  I  am  not  oppressed  with 
work,  and  your  kindness  is  appreciated  but  declined." 

Contrary  to  his  purpose  when  he  began,  he  was 
edging  farther  from  the  subject  instead  of  striking 
the  wedge  in  deeper.  He  felt  that  it  would  be  more 
difficult  to  retrace  than  disclose  at  once,  but  lie 
dreaded  the  effect  of  abruptness,  and  looked  away 
from  Elise  to  the  hands  clasped  upon  his  walking 
stick. 

This  was  a  demeanor  so  unusual  for  her  cordial, 
bustling  friend,  that  Elise  quickly  divined  some  over- 
hanging trouble. 

"  Are  they  all  well  at  home,  Mr.  Drew  ?  No  illness, 
I  hope,  in  your  family  disturbs  you  this  morning?  " 
She  thought  of  his  friends,  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gray,  and 
of  everyone  but  herself,  so  securely  enthroned  upon 
her  pinnacle  of  wealth  and  happiness  that  dislodge- 
ment  was  impossible. 

"  Not  so,  Miss  Elise  ;  my  great  and  only  concern  at 
present  is  the  sad  fact  that  I  shall  no  longer  be  able 
to  serve  you." 

For  this  ambiguous  phrasing  there  was  but  one 
interpretation  to  the  unsuspicious  mind,  and  Elise 
replied : 


166  THE  OPAL 

"  But,  Mr.  Drew,  I  cannot  release  you.  My  father 
trusted  and  honored  you  and  confided  me  to  your 
charge.  I  am  willing  to  grant  you  a  handsome 
annuity,  Mr.  Drew — indeed,- 1  am  pained  that  you 
have  been  so  severely  taxed,  and  would  gladly  have 
relieved  you  had  I  known  it,  but  that  you  shall  not 
have  the  supervision  of  my  affairs  I  can  never,  never 
permit.  Can  you  not  secure  a  sufficient  corps  of 
assistants  ?  " 

"  Money  will  secure  all  things,  Miss  Elise,  but — " 
he  hesitated  and  his  eyes  were  dim  witli  the  thought 
that  this  spirit  of  generosity  which  was  the  breath  of 
her  life  must  be  snuffed  out  so  ignominiously. 

"  And  had  I  but  one  tithe  of  my  present  income, 
Mr.  Drew,  no  sacrifice  would  be  too  great  to  secure 
your  comfort.  The  money  will  hold  out,  I  sup- 
pose !  "  she  laughed,  with  the  easy  banter  of  indis- 
putable assurance. 

"It  is  your -money  affairs  that  distress  me,  Miss 
Elise." 

"  Are  they  in  such  a  very  bad  condition  ?  "  she 
asked,  with  the  same  smiling  unsuspicion. 

This  was  torture  ;  would  she  never  surmise  the 
truth  ?  He  looked  her  keenly,  sorrowfully  in  the  face 
while  he  said  resolutely: 

"  Bad,  very  bad — absolutely  and  unconditionally 
bad  !    So  bad,  Miss  Elise,  that  they  can  be  no  worse  ! ' 
And  he  rose  abruptly,  leaned   his  elbow  upon   the 
mantel,  and  stood  stonily  gazing  at  her. 

"  Am  I  then  a  bankrupt,  Mr.  Drew  ? "  she  said 
dreamily,  with  a  sweet  tenderness,  as  though  she 
would  bestow  her  fullest  sympathy  upon  so  pitiable 
an  object. 

"  Everything  has  been  swept  away  by  the  fire,  ex- 
cept this  house  and  lot." 

"  But  my  bonds  and  mortgages,  Mr.  Drew  sure- 

J 

"  Arc  in  the  hands  of  the  defaulting  clerk  who  has 
robbed  the  bank  and  eludes  all  search." 

With  a  white  calm  that  was  touching  in  its  lofty 
serenity,  she  said  gently  : 


OCTOBER'S  LESSON.  167 

"If  there  is  no  hope  of  arresting  the  fugitive,  Mr. 
Drew,  you  are  indeed  the  bearer  of  heavy  tidings." 
She  bowed  her  head  upon  her  hands,  and  Mr.  Drew 
stood  silently  regarding  her.  "  But  this  house  did  not 
burn,  Mr.  Drew,"  she  said,  looking  up,  "  and  it  is 
mine  still,  you  say — so  I  am  not  yet  a  wanderer  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth  I  Penniless,  but  not  homeless  !  " 
she  added,  with  a  kind  of  cheerful  despair. 

"  And  shall  never  want  a  home  or  friend,  Miss 
Elise,  so  long  as  walls  shelter  me  and  hands  can  earn 
my  daily  bread." 

"  My  generous,  noble  friend,  I  shall  go  to  none 
sooner  than  to  you,  but  Uncle  Gray  will  make  some 
arrangement  for  me,  I  dare  say.  But  you,  what  will 
you  do?  Have  you  not  given  your  whole  time  to 
my  business  and  lost  what  practice  you  might  have 
acquired  in  all  these  years  ?  This  is  indeed  an  over- 
whelming stroke — I  must  help  you  — 

But  she  paused.  To  wish  had  been  to  do,  but 
what  could  she  give  now!  Her  charm  against  all 
distress  had  been  a  bank  check,  and  for  a  moment 
she  stood  bewildered  with  the  thought  that  the  foun- 
tain had  ceased  its  supplies,  and  she  had  not  the 
ready  solace  for  his  woes.  Other  methods  had  never 
been  appealed  to.  What  available  resources  were 
locked  up  within  her?  Could  her  accomplishments 
be  called  into  the  account  for  real  use?  Her  heart 
beat,  her  eyes  glowed  with  a  new  fire  ;  she  silently 
rehearsed  her  stock-in-trade — her  capital  for  work. 
Ah  !  here  was  an  idyl ! — life  would  have  a  new  mean- 
ing ;"  the  uses  of  beauty  !" — she  had  often  thought 
of  that,  and  now  she  would  adjust  the  relations 
between  the  ideal  and  the  actual,  she  would  put  her- 
self in  harmony  with  her  realistic  sphere.  And  she 
smiled  with  her  conception  of  this  lofty,  ideal  life— 
the  beautiful  drama  in  which,  she  would  play  the 
heroine  and  be  the  star.  She  had  not  looked  so 
much  herself  for  years — since  the  long  ago,  Mr. 
Drew  thought  as  he  watched  the  changing  expression 
of  her  face,  and  knew  that  she  was  with  lightning 


1G8  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

rapidity  tracing  out  a  practicable  course — a  career. 
She  had  settled  it  to  her  satisfaction — she  beamed 
upon  him  now  : 

"  We  will  see  what  a  silly  girl  can  do,  who  loves 
her  paints  and  her  keys  with  an  artist's  true  devotion. 
Ah  !  you  are  incredulous?  but  wait  ;  you  shall 
see  !  Miles  of  decorative  and  resonous  art  lie  right 
in  these  fingers-tips !  "  and  rising  as  she  spoke,  she 
came  over  to  him  and  folded  those  hands  in  loving 
benediction  upon  his  head.  He  seized  them  and 
pressed  them  to  his  lips. 

"And  you  are  not  distracted,  crushed !  Look  at 
me,  my  noble  girl,  that  I  may  surely  know  that  3-011 
are  in  possession  of  your  senses — that  you  are  not 
cherishing  the  delusive  freaks  of  insanity!  Dear 
child  !  the  mother's  endurance  and  the  father's  will- 
power center  here,"  he  said,  placing  his  hands  upon 
her  head.  "  You  have  infused  new  life  into  me,  Miss 
Elise;  we  will  see  if  anything  can  be  saved  from  the 
wreck — even  a  moiety  would  not  be  scorned  now." 

Though  not  sanguine  as  to  the  results  of  her  ambi- 
tious designs,  Mr.  Drew  was  too  wise  to  sweep  away 
the  rosy  vision  of  voluntary  self-help  and  check  her 
enthusiasm  for  a  new  career  by  the  hint  of  failure  ; 
too  considerate  to  discuss  what  he  considered  her 
fallacious  theories,  or  to  show  any  appearance  of 
frustrating  her  noble  purpose. 

"  Keep  up  good  heart,  my  little  girl."  Though 
Elise  was  taller  than  he,  this  was  his  affectionate 
diminutive  in  addressing  her.  "Your  father's  old 
friend  isn't  dead  yet,  and  the  good  God  is  overhead ;  " 
and  he  hastened  from  the  room  that  she  might  not 
see  the  tears  stealing  to  his  eyes. 


THE  WITHDRAWAL.  169 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  WITHDRAWAL. 

"  Better  the  soberest,  prosiest  life 
Than  a  blasted  home  and  a  broken  heart." 

J.  T.  Trowbridge. 

"WHY  should  I  feel  so  lonely?"  thought  Elise, 
as  the  door  closed  upon  Mr.  Drew,  "there  is  nothing 
gone  but  money.  What  makes  it  seem  so  cold  and 
dark?" 

This  consciousness  of  wealth  had  been  a  ubiquitous 
presence,  a  kind  of  rosy  sea  in  which  all  her  powers 
disported  themselves.  Her  nature  in  all  its  ramifica- 
tions, had  found  so  many  points  of  support  in  this 
elastic  element  that  she  had  been  incessantly  buoyed 
up  by  it.  With  no  outside  pressure  from  social  ob- 
structions or  economical  exigencies,  and  with  the 
grave  and  severe  realities  of  life  mostly  excluded 
from  her  crystal  habitation,  like  the  "radiant  matter  " 
in  a  uranium  glass  tube,  life  was  a  spectacular  pageant 
in  which  there  was  abundant  room  for  the  free  play 
of  the  unduly  expanding  and  ecstatically  brilliant 
molecular  particles;  the  song,  the  dance,  the  stage, 
the  colors,  the  crayons,  the  crewels — art  was  luminous, 
glorified  ! 

If  she  could  live  in  this  exhausted  receiver,  she 
mused,  with  its  sea  of  color,  with  mind  engaged  upon 
artistic  work,  she  might  still  be  happy.  But  how  to 
keep  her  establishment  without  an  income  to  support 
it?  But  to  work  at  art  unsurrounded  by  the  crea- 
tions of  art,  in  the  cold,  hard  atmosphere  of  realism, 
with  nothing  but  four  blank  walls  to  get  inspiration 
from,  this  would  smother  all  idealistic  perceptions 
and  instincts.  But  how  to  keep  the  place  ?  She  was 


170  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

• 

engaged  to  be  married — might  not  this  be  the  time 
for  the  consummation  of  the  vows  ?  But  now — with 
startled  sensibility  she  realized  that  this  first  thought 
of  Otto  since  the  knowledge  of  her  disaster  brought 
with  it  no  joy — his  image  bewildered  instead  of  re- 
lieved the  thickening  embarrassment. 

She  was  shocked  at  this  development.  The 
thought  of  her  future  husband  shoukl  have  been 
like  a  refuge,  a  strong  tower  into  which  to  flee  from 
the  fury  of  the  storm.  But  she  could  extract  neither 
comfort  nor  help  from  the  thought  of  Otto.  The 
heart  that  was  still  in  her,  all  untouched  by  his  art, 
pronounced  this  verdict — and  her  judgment  rebelled 
against  the  sacrifice.  Have  I  any  right  to  add  myself 
to  the  man  with  whom,  in  such  an  hour  as  this,  I  do 
not  unite,  whose  spirit  does  not  soothe  me,  in  whom 
I  find  no  strength  to  sustain  me  ?  And  now  while 
the  light  was  focusing  on  her  lover  she  began  to  see 
signs  of  indifference  in  his  never  ardent  nature  that 
had  made  no  impression,  upon  her  in  her  entrenched 
position.  Perhaps  he  would  be  influenced  by  the 
change  in  her  fortune  !  If  she  had  been  pierced  by  a 
dagger,  the  pain  of  that  suspicion  could  not  have 
been  more  keen — she  was  stung  to  the  quick  in  the 
citadel  of  her  pride.  But  why  should  she  do  him 
this  injustice?  She  would  dismiss  the  dishonorable 
imputation. 

To  will  was  easy,  but  the  haunting  ghost  kept 
within  tormenting  distance.  The  loss  of  a  friend 
was  more  than  the  loss  of  fortune,  she  had  always 
said.  What  inconsistency  was  this  that  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  recognize  even  an  ardent  friendship  for  her 
loyer?  She  had  never  stopped  to  examine  her  heart, 
had  never  tested  her  love;  but  the  undoubted  existence 
of  a  supposed  love  in  some  remote  corner  of  her  be- 
ing she  had  assumed  as  a  necessary  and  indisputable 
fact.  But  now  she  was  obliged  to  confess  that  if  her 
suspicions  were  true,  wiien  time  had  extracted  the 
sting  from  her  pride,  she  would  be  the  same  Elise — 
her  heart  had  not  been  touched  !  On  the  other  hand, 


THE  WITHDRAWAL.  171 

if  nuclei'  his  apparent  coldness,  Otto  had  a  real  devo- 
tion to  her,  what  a  cruel  blow  she  would  impart  if 
she  renounced  him  ! 

"  No  !  no  !  "  she  said,  "  I  will  never  be  so  unkind,  so 
heartless  !  Better  suffer  myself  and  through  a  long 
life  do  penance,  than  mar  his  calm  by  such  inhar- 
monious contradictions  of  myself !  Better  go  on  in  a 
dull  symphony  of  married  life  than  wake  up  the 
allegrettos  of  his  undisturbed  soul,  now  calmly  lying 
in  the  peaceful  nocturne  of  my  supposed  love  and 
tenderness." 

"  He  shall  decide  it— no  word  of  mine  shall  betray 
the  discovery  I  have  made.  He  shall  be  the  arbiter 
of  our  destinies." 

And  she  was  almost  gay  at  the  prospect  of  sacrifice 
to  the  high,  idealistic  impulse  of  virtue  and  magna- 
nimity that  had  taken  possession  of  her — the  royal 
self-abnegation  in  it  won  the  applause  of  her  aesthetic 
judgment.  "  Art  is  worthy  of  the  sacrifice,"  she 
went  on  musing  ;  ';  the  harmony  of  our  lives  can  be 
rounded  out  in  their  separate  spheres  even  in  matri- 
mony. Their  orbits  will  be  in  concentric  but  not 
identical  circles,  and  so  we  shall  secure  some  variety 
in  union — not  in  unity." 

There  was  an  unusual  glow  upon  her  cheek  from 
this  sublime  mood  as  her  lover  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. Half  concealed  by  the  portiere,  he  paused  a 
moment,  but  only  a  moment,  for  Elise  advanced,  cor- 
dially extending  her  hand  for  the  usual  greeting. 

"  Ah?"  said  he,  with  an  inquiring  glance  at  the 
carmiue  in  her  cheek.  "  Then  the  savage  storm  has 
not  prostrated  to  the  ground  this  blooming  rose  and 
scattered  its  fair  petals  on  the  breeze." 

"  And  if  it  had,"  she  replied,  in  the  same  playful 
vein,  "might  not  the  delicious  odor  still  linger  in  the 
air,  and  cling  to  the  calyx  ?  " 

"But  so  widely  different,  Elise.  Where  would  be 
my  ownership?  And  a  lover  of  the  beautiful  may  be 
pardoned  for  wishing  for  something  a  little  more  sub- 
stantial than  a  scented  calyx." 


172  TJtE  OPAL  QUEEtf. 

"  But  that's  all  I  am,  Otto,  and  I  am  not  one  bit 
in  the  mood  to  apologize  for  my  attenuated  figure,  for 
although  my  fortune  is  scattered  to  the  four  winds, 
I  am  not  broken,  Otto!  There's  just  as  much  of  me 
as  there  was  before,  and  more.  My  soul  never  rose 
to  such  heights  nor  glanced  into  such  depths  as  it  has 
been  spanning  since  I  knew  my  fate." 

Dresson  did  not  reply.  He  had  heard  the  rumor 
of  the  loss,  but  was  not  satisfied  without  confirmation 
at  the  seat  of  authority.  He  imagined  no  failure  in 
his  tactics — having  pre-arranged  plans  for  attack  or 
defense  according  to  the  stress  of  the  situation  when 
lie  appeared  in  the  field. 

He  had  understood  Elise's  gentle  compliance  with 
his  slightest  wish  as  her  tribute  of  homage  to  his 
superiority,  and  clearly  foresaw  a  tragedy  awaiting 
him,  for  with  a  set  purpose  to  cut  the  tie,  he  antici- 
pated entreaties,  plaints,  and  even  tears  of  remon- 
strance. He  was  prepared  for  paleness  and  fainting 
— even  upbraidings  and  scorn — but  not  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  heroic  resolve  and  sublime  indifference 
which  his  tragedy-queen  now  exhibited.  This  had 
been  left  out  of  the  data. 

"I  suppose  you  have  heard,  Otto,  of  the  loss  of  all 
my  property  ?  "  Elise,  inquired  softly. 

Dresson  looked  up  and  bowed ;  folded  his  arms  in 
a  placid  resignation  ;  looked  up,  looked  down  upon 
the  brown  moss-heap  decoration  in  the  carpet  just 
touched  by  a  glinting  sunbeam — ah !  here  was  his 
deliverance  !  — Art  should  save  him !  They  could 
meet  on  that  neutral  ground. 

"  Art  is  long  and  time  is  fleeting, 

And  our  hearts  tho'  stout  and  brave, 
Still  like  muffled  drums  are  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  the  grave," 

he  solemnly  quoted  in  musical  cadence,  leaving  her 
to  choose  out  of  its  suggestions  the  interpretation 
suited  to  the  exigency  of  the  case. 

Elise,  who  had  been  wont  to  humor  his  abstractions 
and  try  to  key  herself  up  to  his  pitcli  of  thought  and 


THE  WITHDRAWAL.  173 

follow  on  melodiously,  did  not  at  this  moment  relish 
the  chase,  and  found  it  impossible  to  make  the  effort. 

"  Have  you  not  some  warmer  tone  for  me  this 
morning,  Otto  ?  Art  seems  cold  in  the  face  of  this 
black  misfortune." 

"  The  outline  of  the  thing  is  so  harsh  and  ragged 
—it  lacks  color." 

"  What  thing,  Otto  ?" 

"  The  thing  they  term  bankruptcy — a  something 
that  has  dared  to  set  -up  its  horrid  front  before  the 
eyes  that  have  beamed  so  bright  on  me  !  " 

"  But  I  have  not  lost  my  eyes,  Otto,  and  they  are 
not  dim  unto  tears,  nor  dull  with  headache.  Bodily 
I  am  all  strung  and  tuned." 

"Mentally,  I  am  all  unstrung,"  whispered  Otto, 
faintly. 

"  But  don't  be  so  disturbed  for  me,  darling,"  Elise 
could  not  help  saying,  full  of  her  old  sympathy  now. 
"  I  am  going  to  be  very  brave.  Why,  you  don't  know 
— there's  no  end  to  things  I  can  do — yes,  I  think  we 
can  have  a  very  exalted  life." 

"  Sell  your  art  for  money,  Elise  !"  for  he  caught 
the  significance  of  Elise's  unspoken  purpose.  "  Be 
ranked  with  the  hireling,  and  work  and  slave  under 
the  mercenary  inspiration  of  gold!  Never  would  I 
have  you  prostitute  your  talent  to  such  base  ends  !  " 

"But  what  shall  I  do,  then?"  Elise  pleaded.  It 
was  a  tumultuous  moment  in  her  poor  heart,  waiting 
for  the  kiss  or  the  blow.  One  word  would  put  an 
ocean  of  space  between  them,  or  link  for  life  incom- 
patible hearts. 

"  I — I — cannot  exactly  see  the  background  of  your 
future,  Miss  Elise  (the  formality  had  begun),  the 
foreground  is  frightfully  clear  and  barren " 

The  language  of  the  diplomat  and  not  of  the  lover 
— she  thought  he  might  have  spared  her  such  a  patent 
disclosure. 

She  felt  the  blow,  and  yet  because  she  knew  that 
while  she  had  not  been  mercenary,  she  had  not  been 
really  won,  and  felt  guilty  of  what  she  now  saw  was 


174  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

a  masquerade  of  love  on  her  part — she  could  not  be 
severe  upon  her  recreant  lover  with  a  baser  motive — 
neither  would  it  have  been  her  nature  to  recriminate 
or  denounce  him  for  false  vows  or  hypocritical  pre- 
tensions. 

But  she  would  not  convict  him  hastily — he  seemed 
in  an  abstracted  mood ;  that  little  prefix  to  her  name 
might  have  been  the  outcome  of  a  respectful  tender- 
ness, s.o  she  said  kindly: 

"  My  uncle,  you  know,  is  able  to  provide  for  me  ; 
not  only  will  he  never-  permit  me  to  suffer,  but  I 
think  he  may  do  something  handsome  for  me." 

Bnt  this  awoke  no  enthusiasm  in  Dresson  ;  so  she 
went  on  : 

"And  after  all,  money,  while  I  must  say  it  lias 
made  me  very  happy,  because  I  have  so  enjoyed 
giving  it  away  — 

Dresson  looked  at  her  with  doubtful  admiration. 

'•  Yes,  that  is  what  1  have  really  enjoyed — I  have 
taken  a  satisfaction  in  gratifying  my  own  wishes  for 
art  and  luxuries  ;  but  when  I  wanted  a  bit  of  solid  joy 
I  built  a  school-house  or  set  up  a  milliner  in  trade," 
she  .said,  with  an  emphasis  excited  by  his  distrust. 

Dresson  again  regarded  her  with  a  pleased  and 
incredulous  surprise. 

"  Oh,  I  am  aware  that  you  did  not  know  it.  I  have 
not  trumpeted  my  deeds  to  the  world — these  pictures 
have  been  my  sacred  treasures  that  I  gloated  on  like 
a  miser  by  myself.  I  take  true  artistic  delight  in 
contemplating  a  family  rescued  from  want,  surround- 
ing a  bountiful  table,  and  children  gathered  from 
lanes  and  by-ways  into  a  well-ordered  school-room." 

"  Was  she  a  priestess  of  religion  as  well  as  art  ?  " 
Dresson  thought,  and  then  dangling  his  watch-chain, 
he  said  listlessly  : 

"  Your  beneficiaries  will  miss  you  and — and  so  shall 
—well — not  the  least  of  whom,  Miss  Elise,  is  your 
humble  servant,"  he  remarked,  looking  her  steadily  in 
the  eye. 

"But  Otto — I  have  not  left  you — I  have  yet  much 
to  give  you." 


THE  WITHDRAWAL.  175 

A  transient  gleam  shot  across  his  pale  serenity,  but 
he  did  not  speak. 

"  I  have  myself,  Otto,  with  all  my  unmined  pos- 
sibilities, all  my  untried  faculties  !  I  feel  them  rising 
within  me  with  the  force  of  a  giant — like  a  host  for 
battle  !  Something  will  be  heard  of  me  yet,  Otto  Dres- 
son,  of  which  you  as  well  as  the  world  will  be  proud." 

How  regal  she  looked  as  she  towered  above  him 
from  her  heights  of  noble  planning;  she  had  risen 
in  her  ardor  and  was  walking  up  and  down  the  golden 
Moquetaire  Aubusson  tapestry. 

He  caught  something  of  her  enthusiasm. 

"  You,  of  yourself,  Miss  Elise,  are  a  sufficient  dower 
for  any  living  mortal,  but  with  a  suppressed  treasury, 
love  would  fly  out  of  the  window,  don't  you  know." 

"  Such  a  transient  and  fugitive  love  better  never 
enter  the  window,  Otto."  she  said,  with  patient  calm- 
ness, and  then  after  a  pause  she  inquired,  with  gentle 
dignity  : 

"  Are  we  parted  then,  Otto  ?  " 

While  Dresson  had  premeditated  this  very  act,  he 
had  not  contemplated  such  precipitation ;  a  gradual 
cessation  of  his  attentions  would  have  been  according 
to  his  notions  of  dissolution.  After  the  instant's 
surprise,  which,  however,  was  not  observable,  he  con- 
cluded to  embrace  the  opportunity  thus  offered,  par- 
ticularly as  in  the  form  now  presented  he  could  adroitly 
assume  that  it  was  her  own  choice. 

"It  disturbs  me,  Miss  Elise,  more  than  I  like  to 
acknowledge,  to  recall  the  proposition  I  once  made  to 
you,  under  circumstances  more  propitious  to  us  both. 
In  doing  this,  I  feel  that  I  am  moved  by  the  highest 
regard  for  your  good — the  greatest  chivalry  for  your 
happiness.  I  should  interfere  with  that  life  of  higher 
consecration  of  which  you  give  me  glimpses — - — " 

"Could  you  not  join  me  in  it?"  Elise  interrupted. 

"  Such  noble  purposes  are  best  evolved  in  silence 
and  solitude — fitting  scenery  must  accompany  a  heroic 
picture." 

"  Ah,  Otto  !  I  have  indeed  mistaken  you — but  I  will 


•  176  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

not  hold  you.  To  preserve  my  established  values  of 
self-respect  and  pride,  I  could  not  intrust  me  to  your 
keeping.  I  thought  you  were  a  hero — I  find  you— 
a  pigmy !  " 

Her  indignation  was  becoming,  as  with  sparkling 
eyes  and  just  a  tra'ce  of  hauteur  she  seemed  to  wave 
him  into  the  distant  obscurity. 

"  By  Jove!  "  he  said  to  himself,  "  she  is  a  queen  ! 
Perhaps  I  do  wrong  to  drop  the  game  so  soon." 

With  more  excitement  than  he  had  shown,  he  said  : 
"  But  do  not  let  us  act  rashly,  Miss  Elise.  Per- 
haps there  may  be  some  compromise  with  for- 
tune  " 

She  interrupted  him,  now  fully  convinced  of  his 
avaricious  spirit : 

"  I  can  never  meet  you  upon  your  ground,  Mr. 
Dresson — it  is  too  much  of  the  earth,  earthy  ;  too 
shining  with  the  mammon.  That  is  plain,  I  know  it 
— but  you  have  not  been  equivocal.  Have  I  perhaps 
misunderstood  you  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  voice  full  of 
pathos,  once  more  under  the  strain  of  her  quick 
sympathy,  fearing  she  had  wronged  him. 

Again  the  sign  of  weakness  on  her  part  and  devo- 
tion to  his  will  aroused  the  god  in  him,  and  he  went 
back  to  his  throne. 

"  My  objections,"  he  said,  with  a  deep  and  tender 
gravity,  "  may  seem  trivial  and  unphilosophical,  but 
I  feel  that  they  are  founded  on  absolute  mathemati- 
cal laws  and  must  ultimately  command  your  assent. 
There  are  conventional  and  arbitrary  limitations  of 
my  sphere  rendering  it  quite  impossible  for  me  to 
step  over  the  clear  and  fixed  boundary-line  between 
celibacy  and  matrimony.  I  put  to  myself  this  ques- 
tion :  Are  there,  or  are  there  not,  constant  qualities 
which  make  what  we  call  matrimony  desirable  ?  Does 
connubial  peace  arise  from  anything  inherent  in 
these,  or  does  it  depend  upon  accidents  in  us,  the 
complex  and  numberless  phenomena  of  our  separate 
interests? — I  ask  further:  Should  there  not  be  in  a 
household  presided  over  by  worshippers  of  Art  who 


THE  WITHDRAWAL.  177 

have  susceptibilities  touched  by  artistic  arrange- 
ments, a  discernible  principle  of  order  and  fitness 
throughout — 

Elise,  who  had  not  quite  thought  of  herself  as  a 
worshipper  of  Art,  here  put  in  a  protest : 

" 1  worship  God,  Otto.  I  have  never  yet  substi- 
tuted Art  as  an  object  of  my  supreme  spiritual  de- 
votion ;"  and  even  while  she  said  it,  she  felt  a  sharp 
cut  through  her  spirit  for  the  neglect  of  God's  wor- 
ship in  its  truest  sense. 

"•But  this  is  the  central  point,  Miss  Elise.  Might 
there  not  be  too  often  coarse  effects,  don't  you  know, 
resulting  from  these  limitations,  so  intense  and  pun- 
gent as  to  exhaust  our  sensibilities  and  mar  our  calm  ? 
Abstractly  considered,  a  lily-dinner  or  a  sunflower- 
dessert  may  fill  one's  aesthetic  nature ;  but  such 
objects,  you  will  permit  me  to  say,  while  they  may 
enter  into  the  scale  of  our  physical  and  sensual  enjoy- 
ments as  accompaniments,  can't  furnish  blood,  brain, 
and  muscle,  don't  you  know  ?  But  beef  and  eggs  and 
all  that  class  of  edibles  belonging  to  the  sesthetics 
of  the  useful  are  reached  through  a  commercial  ex- 
change— pence  and  shillings — without  which  neces- 
sary basis  of  support,  I  fear,  Miss  Elise,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  remove  the  fatiguing  accompaniments, 
tone  down  the  exciting  influences,  and  refine  those 
coarse  effects  I  hinted  at." 

Elise  queried  inwardly  what  had  become  of  his 
"patrimony,"  but  was  silent. 

"  I  am  quite  confident  that  I  have  an  adequate 
apprehension  of  the  harmony  and  perfection  of  your 
being.  I  look  upon  you  as  the  objective  embodiment 
of  my  idea  of  physical  beauty — a  beauty  which  will 
be  to  me  an  eternal  aspiration  and  to  which  I  shall 
ceaselessly  approximate." 

He  arose  and  offered  his  hand  in  parting.  Elise 
silently  placed  hers  in  his.  He  swept  the  curtains 
aside,  seized  his  hat  and — paused,  for  Elise  had 
followed,  and  stood  resting  her  elbow  upon  the 
newel. 


178  THE  OPAL 

The  triumph  and  clear  shining  purpose  on  her 
face  bewitched  while  it  puzzled  him.  Was  she 
indifferent  to  his  charms?  Was  she  consenting  with 
secret  pleasure  to  the  dissolution  of  the  bond? 
Was  the  spell  of  his  presence  lost  upon  her?  For 
one  second  there  shot  a  hot  gush  through  his  heart. 
The  dart  had  struck ;  he  was  nearer  the  edge  of  the 
volcano  than  he  relished — on  the  dizzy  verge  of  love's 
abyss — another  such  glance  and  he  would  be  utterly 
submerged.  Not  an  instant  must  be  lost. 

He  was  mechanically  smoothing  his  beaver,  but 
now  recalled  to  himself,  kept  on  the  line  of  his  pre- 
arranged movement. 

"  And  if,  Miss  Elise,  in  after  life,  sitting  among  the 
cold,  gray  ashes  of  Memory,  as  I  recall  my  past  sen- 
sations and  sympathies,  I  shall  wish  to  bind  niy 
thoughts  to  one  firm  spot  and  embody  them  in  a  fit- 
ting memorial  suggestive  of  my  devotion  to  Art,  it 
will  be  the  visible  temple  of  your  soul  as  I  see  it  to- 
day ;  for  in  this  shrine  dwells,  as  I  have  often  said  to 
you,  Platonic  perfection  of  sufficiently  comprehen- 
sive design  to  influence  the  whole  range  of  Art.  And 
I  shall  look  upon  my  finished  work — this  artistic 
form  delivered  from  the  cold  marble,  and  I  shall 
gaze  and  gaze,  and  yearn — — " 

And  he  was  gone. 


THE  LEGACY.  179 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   LEGACY. 

As  Mr.  Drew  entered  the  library  next  morning,  his 
face  showed  that  he '  was  greatly  encouraged  in  his 
view  of  the  situation. 

"  I  have  a  matter  of  some  importance  for  you  to 
consider,  Miss  Elise,  which  I  didn't  mention  yester- 
day because  you  were  too  wrought  up.  This  subject 
requires  clear-headedness,  and  I  staid  over  night  to 
see  what  effect  a  night's  rest  would  have  upon  you. 
Not  quite  up  to  the  standard  yet,  I  see,"  he  said, 
glancing  at  her  sunken  eyes. 

"  Sleep  had  rather  a  sorry  time  in  trying  to  '  knit 
up  the  tangled  threads  of  care  '  last  night.  The  snarl 
was  too  intricate  for  his  lordship — but  something  lias 
nerved  me  this  morning,  for  I  feel  fresh  as — as  any- 
thing ! " 

"  Good  !  Well,  then,  let's  to  it.  It  has  been 
pushed  into  the  background  by  its  specific  limitations, 
and  lost  sight  of,  but  fortunately  just  come  to  my 
attention,"  Mr.  Drew  observed,  taking  a. long  docu- 
ment from  his  vest-pocket. 

"In  turning  over  your  legal  papers  I  have  brought 
to  light  this  fragment,  which  I  think,"  looking  keenly 
at  her  over  his  spectacles,  "  is  one  of  those  veritable 
apples  in  old-gold  that  we  read  about — and  I  hope 
that  you  will  say  that  it  is  a  '  fitly  spoken  word  '  for 
this  very  time,  October  eighth,  anno  Domini  eighteen 
hundred  and  so  forth."  And  Mr.  Drew  gave  the 
paper  an  emphatic  slap  upon  the  table. 

"  I  know  what  it  must  be  from  your  graphic 
description,  Mr.  Drew,  for  only  this  morning  it  came 


180  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

into  my  own  mind.  You  refer  to  the  clause  in 
my  grandfather's  will  settling  upon  me  a  marriage 
portion,  do  you  not?" 

Elise  smiled,  but  she  had  not  caught  his  transient 
enthusiasm,  and  he  thought  he  recognized  an  inaud- 
ible quiver  in  her  voice.  She  looked  pale  but  resolved, 
and  scarcely  knowing  why,  his  ardor  was  somewhat 
dampened. 

"  It  occurred  to  me,  Miss  Elise — you  will  pardon 
an  old  man  for  what  looks  like  pry  ing  into  your  love- 
affairs,  since  his  only  object  is  to  put  you  on  your 
feet  again  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  quizzical  bewilderment  and 
paused. 

Elise  gave  him  a  look  full  of  happy  trust  that  dis- 
armed his  fears. 

"  I  was  thinking,  you  know,  that  perhaps  you 
might  set  an  early  day  for  your  marriage  to  Mr. 
Dresson,  and  so  come  into  immediate  possession  of 
this  little  fortune  ; — only  a  drop  in  the  bucket  to  be 
sure,  compared  w-ith  what  you've  lost,  but  for  a  little 
fortune  it  is  really  quite  a  handsome  thing." 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  sum,  Mr.  Drew,"  Elise  re- 
marked, absently. 

"Fifty  thousand,"  he  replied,  briskly,  and  with  a 
suppressed  chuckle,  as  if  in  some  indefinable  way  his 
emphatic  alertness  would  increase  its  valuation  com- 
mensurate to  her  needs. 

"  But  I  am  unable  to  comply  with  the  conditions 
of  the  will — that  is,  at  present,  Mr.  Drew." 

"  No  special  hurry,  you  know,  Miss  Elise — stay  at 
your  Aunt  Gray's  or  here,"  he  said,  glancing  around, 
"  no  one  to  molest  you  here,  house  secured  and  in- 
sured, and  all  quiet  and  nice  here  just  as  you  have 
always  had  it — say  four  weeks?  Wife  tells  me  that 
a  lady  can  step  into  New  York,  and  spend  a  day  or 
two,  and  leave  with  a  wedding-gear  fit  for  a  queen." 

But  he  halted  in  his  speech,  for  Elise  was  not  hear- 
ing him,  he  knew,  by  the  bewildering  dreaminess  in 
her  face  and  the  prolonged  gaze  of  her  eyes,  centered 


THE  LEGACY.  181 

upon  her  mother's  hanging  portrait  on  the  opposite 
wall. 

The  abrupt  pause  broke  her  reverie,  and  she  said, 
with  melancholy  sweetness  : 

"  Mr.  Dresson  is  nothing  to  me  now,  Mr.  Drew." 

This  was  ambiguous,  and  Mr.  Drew,  upon  the 
point  of  exclamation,  checked  himself,  perceiving 
that  Elise  might  have  dismissed  her  lover,  and  not 
have  been  jilted. 

She  went  on  in  the  same  quiet  vein : 

"  I  released  him  yesterday,  just  after  you  left." 
He  started,  and  she  continued,  answering  his  keen 
glance  of  inquiry,  "  at  his  own  implied  request." 
Every  word  was  cut  with  a  clean  distinctness  of 
emphasis  that  carried  its  deepest  meaning. 

Mr.  Drew  rose  to  his  feet,  and  came  over  to  her  in 
a  state  of  irritation  and  annoyance  he  tried  in  vain 
to  conceal.  But  again  he  checked  the  rising  indigna- 
tion to  inquire  : 

"  Did  you  not  first  throw  him  over,  Miss  Elise  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  He  withdrew  his  proposi- 
tion  " 

';  The  confounded  scoundrel,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Drew.  "  How  can  a  man  take  back  that  kind  of  a 
thing  ?  Better  have  withdrawn  his  own  beastly 
carcass  before  he  ever  set  foot  in  this  town  !  "  Mr. 
Drew  was  going  beyond  the  bounds  of  refinement. 
He  felt  it  and  apologized,  saying: 

"  You  must  overlook  my  roughness,  Miss  Elise, 
I  am  so  cut  up  about  this  thing.  For  your  sake,  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  am  glad  the  man  is  off  your  hands,  but 
I  thought  we  had  such  a  fine  plan  for  your  comfort.  I 
saw  your  gold-lined  nest  just  ready  for  you  to  step  into 
again.  But  the  presumption  of  the  fool  is  something 
enormous — to  have  the  audacity — condescension,  per- 
haps the  snob  called  it — (excuse  me,  Miss  Elise,  I 
know  the  fellow) — to  ask  for  such  a  prize,  and  then 
the  cool  impudence  to  hand  it  back  when  the  gold 
falls  off  it !  The  contemptible  puppy  !  Withdrew 
his  proposition,  you  say?  Withdrew  his  fiddle- 
sticks ! " 


182  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

Elise  could  not  resist  laughing  at  the  blustering 
denunciations  of  her  quondam  lover,  and  it  was  con- 
tagious enough  to  dissolve  the  ominous  frowns  in- 
creasing to  an  alarming  extent  on  Mr.  Drew's  face, 
but  he  could  not  stop. 

"  Playing  fast  and  loose  with  marriage  vows  is 
not  to  my  liking,  Miss  Elise.  A  pre-Raphaelite,  I 
think  you  call  him.  Humph  !  If  this  is  the  out- 
come of  aesthetics,  deliver  me  from  such  whim- 
whams  !  The  retreat  was  no  doubt  very  artistic ; 
'  withwrawing '  is  rather  the  part  of  an  actor  on 
the  stage  ;  he  probably  thought  no  more  of  breaking 
this  tie  than  he  would  of  brushing  away  a  cobweb  ! 
I  can  see  him  now,  with  his  hat  in  gloved  hand,  bow- 
ing and  scraping — the  cowardly,  pusillanimous,  dis- 
honorable, exquisite  fop ! " 

He  threw  himself  into  a  chair  and  looked  vacantly 
into  the  wood  fire  with  its  shining  andirons. 

"Perhaps  he  has  not  been  altogether  to  blame," 
said  Elise,  realizing  that  while  she  herself  would  not 
have  dissolved  the  bonds  of  engagement,  she  had  pro- 
tracted them  beyond  his  wish  because  she  could  never 
fully  get  her  own  consent  to  take  the  irrevocable  step, 
and  knowing  now,  what  she  only  dimly  guessed  then, 
that  it  was  because  he  did  not  possess  her  heart.  "  I 
think  I  entered  into  the  contract  a  little  too  hastily." 

"But  you  expected  to  marry  him,  did  you  not?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Elise,  with  the  doubtful  accent  of 
the  circumflex — replying  truthfully  and  yet  mislead- 
ing him  without  intention ;  she  knew  it  was  as  to  the 
real  state  of  her  heart.  "  But  I  didn't  know  when 
the  spirit  would  move  me.  And  " — for  Mr.  Drew's 
face  was  lighting  up  as  with  a  new  revelation — 
"  well,  the  fact  is,  Mr.  Drew,  I  think  I  shall  come 
out  unscathed,"  she  said,  with  a  bright  smile. 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Drew.  "  That  pleases  me, 
but—  '  and  he  once  more  resumed  his  study  in  the 
polishing  of  andirons. 

lie  looked  up  suddenly.  "  Does  Dresson  know  of 
this  bequest?" 


THE  LEGACY.  183 

"  I  have  not  mentioned  it  to  a  living  soul,"  she  re- 
plied, "  and  as  you  and  I  are  its  only  custodians,  he 
cannot  know  it." 

"  We'll  keep  it  sacredly — trust  me  there.  If  that 
fellow  got  inkling  of  this  he  would  march  up  here 
double-quick  with  his  countersign — his  *  withdrawal ' 
would  become  instantly  abbreviated  into  a  d-r-a-w-1 
on  the  woes  of  the  rejected.  He  would  no  more 
mind  setting  aside  that  insignificant  'with'  than 
crushing  a  mosquito,  and  would  probably  convince 
you,  before  he  was  through — the  artful,  designing 
rascal — that  the  whole  business  was  a  ruse  on  his 
part,  an  artistic  plot,  purposely  contrived  and  play- 
fully executed  to  test  your  sincerity  !  Ha  !  I  know 
him — a  crack-brained  do-nought-in-the-world,  into  the 
bargain ! " 

But  Elise  looked  grave  ;  she  could  not  so  soon  un- 
idealize  her  lover. 

"  But  I  am  disappointed  to  lose  him,  I  don't  see 
why  we  can't  be  good  friends  and — 

"  Never  try  that,  Miss  Elise.  Once  a  lover  always  a 
lover,  remember  that ;  and  if  it  is  only  a  sham-love, 
why,  the  fewer  pretenders  you  have  about  you,  the 
better." 

"  Then  I  confess  that  I  am  mortified — my  pride  is 
hurt,  and  I  am  all  unstrung." 

"Never  mind  all  that;  with  a  sound  heart  you'll 
string  up  again  in  no  time  ;  and  a  little  wounded 
pride,  Miss  Elise,  may  lift  up  the  virtue  of  humility, 
and  so  give  you  a  better  balancing,  and  you'll  then 
be  adjusted  more  according  to  the  heavenly  mathe- 
matics— eh  ?  " 

"  Why,  there's  no  pride  in  the  scales  with  heavenly 
weights  !  "  said  Elise  in  a  surprised  exclamation. 

"That's  just  as  you  say,  Miss  Elise,"  said  the  old 
gentleman  absently,  and  then : 

"  Tut !  tut !  What  am  I  saying?  Of  course  not. 
I'll  keep  my  similes  within  range  of  Blackstone,  I 
think,  hereafter.  I  never  had  the  least  talent  at  ser- 
monizing ;  always  get  lodged  in  some  impossible 


184  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

ethics  from  which  an  ox-team  can  hardly  extract 
me  ! "  But  his  face  shone  as  a  father's  does  when 
caught  in  an  accidental  blunder  by  an  astute  child. 
There  was  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  mixed  with  this 
benevolent  pride,  as  he  said: 

"  I'll  pass  that  field  over  to  you,  Miss  Elise,  and 
stand  ready  for  the  sermon  most  any  day." 

"  But  this  is  far  from  the  subject  on  my  mind. 
How  can  we  make  available  the  fifty  thousand  ? — that's 
the  proposition  for  you  to  tackle  now.  You  know 
when  yon  came  into  possession  of  your  property,  and 
told  me  as  your  executor  that  it  was  your  desire  to 
have  me  keep  to  myself  that  bequest ' 

Ci  Because  you  know  it  was  for  a  special  purpose, 
and  I  didn't  care  about  publishing  it — it  would  be 
like  a  bait  to  draw  a  husband,"  Elise  interrupted. 

"  Quite  right.  I  agreed  with  you,  and  have  not 
imparted  the  secret  even  to  my  wife  ;  women  are  for- 
getful, you  know,  but — I  beg  pardon 

"  And  gossipy,"  laughed  Elise,  "  oh,  yes  !  very 
well,  anything  else  ?  " 

"  I'll  not  add  one  more  count  to  the  indictment,"  he 
replied.  "  Let  that  pass.  I  am  open  to  discussion 
only  on  one  subject.  You  can't  very  well  step  up 
to  the  man  of  your  choice  and  say,  you  are  ready  for 
the  ring — I  know  that.  You  can't  collar  a  man  and 
manipulate  his  knees  into  the  posing,  proposing,  ador- 
ing lover's — I  know  that— and  you  wouldn't  if  you 
could.  You  are  on  the  voting  side,  but  you  can't 
'  put  the  question;'  and  so  you  modestly  wait  for 
the  chairman  to  put  it.  Of  course,  that  is  right.  But 
meantime  the  thought  is  suggested  to  me  that  your 
benevolent  ancestor  would  undoubtedly  put  this 
money  into  your  hands  to-day,  if  he  were  standing 
on  this  carpet,  and  why  ought  not  we  to  devise  some 
way  of  putting  it  there?  " 

"  The  conditions  are  unequivocal,  are  they  not, 
Mr.  Drew?" 

"  It  reads  that  the  whole  sum  is  to  be  laid  out  upon 
your  wedding  paraphernalia  and  accessories.  I  think 


THE  LEGACY.  185 

you  are  too  sensible  a  girl  to  spend  fifty  thousand  on 
your  trousseau,  and  this  wording  is  no  doubt  wisely 
chosen  to  enable  you  to  buy  a  house  and  lot  if  you 
chose,  or  some  substantial  article  of  which  your 
domestic  life  should  stand  in  need.  A  good  many 
things  could  come  under  the  head  '  accessories.'  " 

"  I  would  rather  keep  to  the  letter  of  the  will,  Mr. 
Drew.  I  prefer  not  to  make  over  or  mar  the  pro- 
visions in  any  wise;  Grandpa  was  old  enough  to 
know  his  own  mind,  and  clear-headed  enough  to  make 
wise  provisions  for  me — or  at  any  rate  if  he  erred  in 
his  judgment,  as  many  a  good  man  has,  he  had  a 
particular  fancy  to  have  that  sum  go  just  in  this  pre- 
scribed way.  You  may  call  it  a  freak,  and  perhaps 
it  was,  but  it  was  his  freak  and  it  was  his  money,  and 
he  had  a  right  to  proportion  them  as  he  chose,  and 
I  have  no  right  to  interfere  with  the  legitimate  out- 
come of  his  intentions." 

Mr.  Drew  rapped  his  pencil  nervously  on  the 
table,  but  said  nothing,  evidently  pondering  every 
word  and  movement. 

"  And  since  you  say  you  came  to  consult  me  about 
this,  let  me  tell  you  now  and  for  always,  that  if  I 
never  marry,  I  shall  never  put  forth  one  finger  to- 
wards the  fifty  thousand.  If  it  were  lying  at  my 
feet  I  would  not  touch  it  except  to  replace  it  where 
it  belongs." 

"  Then  it  goes  to  the  Grays " 

"  And  my  grandpa's  will  is  also  mine.  I  should 
wish  to  see  it  go  there." 

"Are  you  quite  inflexible,  my  little  girlie?"  he 
said,  putting  his  hand  on  her  arm  as  he  walked  to 
the  door. 

"  I  am  a  Mede  on  my  father's  side  and  a  Persian 
on  my  mother's,"  she  replied,  laughing. 

"  But  consider  your  destitution."  Elise's  face  fell. 
"  Ah !  that  is  a  sad,  hard  word  !  "  He  bowed  his 
head,  and  then  abruptly  raising  it,  he  cried  with  a 
pathetic  fervor  : 

"God  bless  my  soul,  what  is  left  for  me  to  do  for 
you?  "  and  rushed  into  the  street. 


186  TlIE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE. 

A  QUICK  and  touching  sympathy  for  the  beautiful 
"  Opal  Queen  "  throbbed  as  with  one  pulse  through 
the  village,  when  the  dire  account  of  her  double  loss 
shot  from  house  to  house.  What  would  become  of 
her?  How  did  she  bear  it?  What  did  she  say? 
How  did  she  look  ?  These  and  other  pertinent  in- 
quiries formed  the  theme  of  gossiping  discussion  in 
all  ranks.  Neither  did  they  all  stop  with  specula- 
tions on  the  mischance  and  the  probable  chances. 
There  were  offers  of  help  and  cheery  words  of  en- 
couragement, besides  the  universal  tide  of  sympathy 
that  set  in  like  a  flood. 

"  An'  shure,  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  you, 
Miss,  it's  not  the  loikes  o'  me  that'll  be  a  refusin'  on't," 
said  old  widow  Flinn,  who  had  gained  an  audience 
with  Elise  and  stood  with  one  corner  of  her  apron 
wiping  her  eyes,  as  she  said  afterwards  to  her  little 
circle  of  friends,  "  to  see  her  standing  there  so  swate 
and  pale  loike,  an'  zhust  as  calm,  shure,  loike  no  storm 
had  never  crossed  her  bosom,  and  she  knew  zhust 
where  to  lay  her  finger  on  anither  gold  pile  zhust  as 
good  foreby. 

"  Ye  haven't  seen  our  Opal  Queen  ?  "  she  asked  of 
one  of  the  company,  a  stranger. 

"Will  ye  be  tellin  me  now  what  they  does  be  afther 
callin  her  the  Opal  Queen  for?  Is  it  some  island  that 
ye  mane?  Wasn't  she  born  in  Ameriky  ?"  rapidly 
interrogated  the  stranger. 

"Why,  for  shure,"  replied  Bridget  "it's  the  shpar-' 
kle  in  them  sumpchis  orbs  and  the  white  an'  pank  in 


VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE.  187 

her  complexion,  shure.  Oh,  mother  ov  Moses  !  I  wish 
ye'd  seen  her  now  I"  And  here  Mrs.  Flinn  straight- 
ened herself  into  rigidity,  and  looking  out  into  space, 
outlined  with  the  quick  precision  of  an  etcher  who 
is  seizing  his  first  impressions  of  the  figure  she  seemed 
to  see  there. 

"  She  was  tall,  an'  she  was  beautiful,  an'  she  was 
dressed  all  in  white  an'  the  folds  hung  down,  an'  she 
had  the  look  of  an  angel  on  her  face,  an'  as  though 
she  was  say  in'  her  prayers  all  the  time,  an'  oh  !  " — here 
Mrs.  Flinn  paused  to  take  breath  and  gave  a  great 
gulping  sigh — "she  had  such  a  good  shmell  on  her  !  " 

Mrs.  Flinn  little  realized  her  precipitate  descent 
from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous,  and  as  her  visitors 
were  blessed  with  the  same  dull  perceptions,  the  last 
member  of  the  series  formed,  to  their  original  minds, 
the  appropriate  finish  of  the  climax. 

"  An'  shure,  didn't  she  send  me  all  the  gowns  an' 
things  that  the  children  wears,  an'  all  the  mate  we 
wanted  iver  since  she  come  ? — an'  wasn't  she  a'most 
a-giievin',  shure,  an'  put  out  wid  me,  'cause  I  was  for 
thankin'  of  her  an'  callin'  down  the  blessin's  of  all 
the  saints  on  her  swate  face  ? 

"  'An'  shure,'  "  she  sez,  'Bridget,  ye  knows  yerself 
an'  the  Lord  He  knows,  an'  we  won't  zhust  mind  noth- 
in'  about  the  rest  on  'em ;  an'  the  saints  are  full  o' 
business  loike  up  in  the  hivvens,  so  we'll  zhust  be 
for  kapin'  it  a  bit  shly  betwixt  us.  If  I  was  a  suffer- 
in','  sez  she,  '  its  loike  enough  ye'd  be  fer  comin' 
round  to  help,  forenenst  someo'  the  grand  folk,  shure 
foreby.' 

"  An'  shure,  Miss,  sez  I — the  tears  all  standin'  in 
the  corners  o'  my  eyes — ye  shall  niver  want  while 
Bridget  Flinn's  above  ground  to  put  oyes  on  yer 
bonny  face  an'  h's  got  the  flesh  an'  bones  to  work 
wid  fur  ye  !  "  » 

So  far,  Bridget  had  run  her  train  at  locomotive 
speed  without  breaks.  She  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and 
sat  down,  bending  over  and  crossing  her  arms  in  her 
lap.  The  audience  was  silent  now,  but  fully  in  accord 


188  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

with  the  speaker,  as  had  been  proved  by  the  occa- 
sional sympathetic  groans  or  interjected  exclamations 
of  assent  and  encouragement  from  the  enthusiastic 
and  irrepressible  members  during  the  eulogy.  They 
were  at  this  present  moment  occupied  with  the  prob- 
lem of  how  Bridget  Flinn,  now  that  the  crisis  had 
really  come,  could  make  good  her  promise — how  she 
would  find  the  means  to  take  care  of  her  six  little 
ones  (who  were  now  comfortably  disposed  in  various 
laps  or  squatted  on  the  floor  in  picturesque  rags)  and 
the  Opal  Queen  into  the  bargain  !  But  they  waited 
for  the  solution  ;  partly  from  the  shock  of  the  tidings, 
from  which  ignorant  minds  do  not  easily  rebound 
even  when  they  are  not  the  victims  of  the  disaster, 
partly  from  a  vague  suspicion  that  there  was  more  to 
come  from  the  same  oracular  source,  and  partly  from 
a  certain  native  restraint  which  stood  them  for  polite- 
ness. 

But  one  buxom  dame,  a  trifle  more  venturesome 
than  the  rest,  suggested  faintly  that  Mrs.  Flinn  could 
not  have  been  supposed  to  imagine  even  that  the  ca- 
lamity was  so  imminent,  when  she  made  the  uncon- 
ditional pledge. 

But  Mrs.  Flinn  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"An'  shure,"  she  said,  with  a  ring  of  defiant  indig- 
nation in  her  voice,  rising  and  standing  with  arms  a- 
klmbo,  "y'er  thinkin  now  that  I'll  be  for  goin'  back 
on  my  promise,  an'  that  shows,  faith,  that  ye  don't 
know  Bridget  O'Brien  Flinn! — that's  meself,  shure, 
that's  come  from  the  dacent  shtock  o'  the  O'Briens 
— an'  I  zhust  want  ye  to  know  now  that  the  O'Briens 
is  honest  ivery  one  o'  them  to  the  marrow,  an'  niver 
desayves  a  friend  !  " 

But  without  unfolding  the  exact  line  of  her  pro- 
gramme or  disclosing  any  part  of  the. benevolent 
scheme  which  should  prove  her  true  to  her  ancestry, 
she  turned  upon  the  offender. 

"An'  who  got  your  baste  of  a  man  out  of  the  jail 
last  winther  an'  gave  him  dacent  employment  right 
in  her  own  primises  when  she  was  a-buildin'  her  pal- 


VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE.  189 

ace,  slmre?  An'  who  shingled  your  shanty  whin  the 
rain  was  comin'  in  fit  to  drown  ye  an'  yer  brats  while 
yer  old  man  was  servin' out  his  time,  arrah!  An' 
was  afther  givin  yerself  many  a  day's  job — as  I'm 
comin'  to  know !  It's  the  Opal  Queen  that's  bin  the 
stickin'  friend  to  ivery  one  on  us,"  she  said  glancing 
around;  "some  on  us  would 'a gone  clean  out  into 
the  next  world  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Opal  Queen, 
shure  !  " — and  she  sank  into  her  chair,  sobbing  and 
crying,  all  broken  down  now  at  the  remembrance  of 
her  nearly  fatal  illness  after  Mr.  Flinn's  death,  when 
Elise  sent  good  old  mother  Crady  to  nurse  her. 

Not  one  in  the  company  but  had  experienced  some 
kindness  from  the  Opal  Queen,  and  they  were  loud 
now  in  their  protestations  of  regard  and  devotion  ; 
they  rehearsed  these  deeds  in  their  hearty  vernacular, 
and  descanted  glowingly  on  her  merits  and  her 
beauty. 

But  Mrs.  Flinn  had  inherited  something  besides 
loyalty  to  friends  from  the  rare  O'Brien  stock  ;  a  fine 
streak  of  diplomatic  talent  was  also  imbedded  in  her 
composition,  and  in  this  interval  of  rest  which  the 
others  were  loudly  vocalizing,  she  worked  out  a 
policy  to  establish  her  line  of  defense — adroitly 
shifting  the  burden  of  proof  upon  an  organization, 
as  it  were,  of  her  fellow  countrywomen,  who  stood 
committed  now  as  the  acknowledged  recipients  of  a 
bounty  almost  if  not  quite  equal  to  her  own. 

"  It's  foine  open  countenances,  ye  hev,"  she  said, 
now  restored  to  a  tolerable  composure,  "mebbeit's 
honest  ye  air — troth,  an  I  don't  think  ye'd  be  a  desayv- 
in'  of  me.  An'  faith,  what  air  ye  goin'  to  do  about  it  ? 
Sittin'  there  a  whimperin'  an'  braggin'  an  star-in,' 
when  loike  as  not  the  swate  sowl  hasn't  a  coal  in  her 
bin  nor  a  perater  in  the  barrel.  An'  ye'd  zhust  best 
be  a  thinkin'  about  it  for  shure  now,  pretty  lively, 
an'  come  in  an'  acquaint  me  wid  yer  intentions  for 
the  loikes  o'  the'  brave,  beautiful  sowl  that's  loike  an 
angel  from  hivven  !  Och  !  is  it  there  ye  air,  ye  ras- 
cal, a'  pokin  me  in  the  ribs  to  make  me  laugh? — • 


190  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

what  is  ye  after  inniway?" — and  she  snatched  up 
the  youngest  scion  of  the  noble  O'Biien  stock,  with 
a  series  of  vigorous  gymnastics  that  set  the  cherub 
into  the  normal  and  indignant  protestations  of  out- 
raged babyhood,  and  at  the  same  time  was  a  signal 
to  the  visitors  that  their  conference — so  far  as  Mrs. 
O'Brien  Flinn  was  concerned — had  come  to  an  end. 

But  Elise's  playful  and  figurative  disparagement 
of  her  friends,  according  to  Mrs.  Flinn's  version,  was 
not  borne  out  by  the  facts.  '  The  "  Saints'  Rest " 
turned  out  en  masse,  even  dear  old  Gran  feeling  that 
she  must  give  her  bit  of  sympathy  to  the  stricken 
child  ;  and  Charming  was  not  put  to  the  grim  neces- 
sity of  holding  more  secret  councils  with  himself  on 
the  possible  and  the  impossible,  the  probable  and  the 
improbable,  as  Superba  constituted  herself  a  com- 
mittee to  institute  the  proper  ceremonies,  and  invested 
herself  with  arbitrary  authority.  She  was  accus- 
tomed to  manage  her  forces  with  the  skill  of  a  field- 
marshal  without  suggestive  hints  from  the  male 
portion  of  the  household — who  were  not  expected, 
according  to  her  view  of  the  relative  duties  of  the 
sexes,  to  understand  nice  points  of  etiquette— and  was 
able  to  rally  them  without  preliminary  argument  into 
an  impromptu  onset  upon  the  palace  to  contribute 
their  spoken  assurances  of  cordial  fellowship. 

Others  succeeded  rapidly  as  the  days  of  the  first 
week  rolled  on,  with  the  profuse  offers  of  assistance 
— that  fall  from  ready  lips  like  the  worm-eaten  fruit 
before  maturity — without  the  remotest  conception  on 
their  part  that  promise  meant  fulfillment,  and  who 
would  be  routed  and  utterly  put  to  flight  should  their 
gilded  pledges  be  rated  at  full  valuations. 

The  airy  dew  of  a  false  sympathy — that  is  all !  Just 
a  little  fragrant  so-called  moisture  to  keep  the  flower 
from  utterly  wilting  in  this  Sahara  of  misfortune! 
Just  to  let  her  see,  you  know,  that  we  think  of  her 
and  feel  kindly  towards  her!  Heroic  little  souls  ! 
Well— even  for  such  there  is  a  mission  !  and  sometimes 
in  the  squeeze  for  the  one  glistening  drop,  the  long- 


VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE.  191 

pent  fountain  bursts  and  sends  out  a  stream  of  real, 
active  benevolence.  But  they  came  and  went  away 
disappointed — they  expected  to  meet  a  weeping 
Niobe,  and  found  a  noble  Spartan  soaring  far  above 
the  vicissitudes  of  life  in  the  serene  atmosphere  of 
her  own  sunny  content.  Conduct  so  entirely  out  of 
rule"  must  be  reprehensible — could  not  be  above 
reproach  even  if  their  keenest  scrutiny  could  not 
detect  the  flaws  !  "She  must  have  other  means  of 
support!"  or  "We'll  see  her  'flat  out'  at  last  I" 
were  the  secret  comments  of  these  suspicious  hypo- 
crites. 

This  was  the  crowd.  There  were  still  left  the  ap- 
preciative few  whose  speech  was  standard  gold,  every 
sentence  of  which  was  a  promissory  note  bearing  in- 
terest for  time  and  running  into  eternity,  if  neces- 
sary. 

"I  will  tell  you  what  I  have  thought  of,"  said 
Miss  St.  John  to  a  company  of  her  friends  informally 
gathered  in  Miss  Love's  drawing-room.  "You  know 
Miss  Archer  was  intending  to  have  the  next  Festival 
and  all  the  beautiful  plans  she  carried  out  in  her 
house  to  produce  it  with  the  best  effects.  Well,  I 
have  quietly  ascertained  that  she  has  given  up  the 
idea.  Now  why  shouldn't  we  impress  herself  and 
her  house  right  into  our  service  for  the  occasion — 
take  the  whole  management  off  from  her  hands,  sup- 
ply the  feast — the  'goodies,'  you  know  I  mean,  she 
said,  laughing— "ourselves  and  leave  her  only  (he 
office  of  a  sinecure  and — well  ? — yes  ;  critic  in  par- 
ticular and  general  mistress  extraordinary  of  the 
whole  affair?" 

There  was  a  pretty  little  confusion  of  enthusiastic 
admiration  of  the  plot  and  the  plotter,  in  the  midst 
of  which  Miss  Tete  said  : 

"  And  may  I  be  aide-de-camp  to  this  Mistress  Ex- 
traordinaire ?  " 

"  Why,  mavoureen  !"  replied  Miss  St.  John,  "  we 
shall  need  every  mother's  child  of  you  in  the  forces 
of  the  assaulting  brigade." 


192  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  And  there's  something  else  occurs  to  me,"  said 
Virginia  Love.  "  You  know  Miss  Archer  was  just 
about  to  order  her  dress  from  Worth's — now  why 
couldn't  we  all  combine  and  make  it  for  her?  " 

"Charming,"  exclaimed  Miss  Bunce  ;  "then  we 
shall  prove  our  love." 

And  the  arch-plotters  grew  merry  over  their  shrewd 
device,  and  put  their  sage  young  heads  together  in 
the  planning,  contriving  and,  above  all,  the  vigor- 
ously discussing  of  how  to  apprise  Miss  Archer  of 
the  intended  assault.  Some  were  for  carrying  the 
whole  affair  on  secretly  and  then  springing  it  upon 
her  like  an  old-fashioned  surprise  party  ;  but  the 
majority  thought  this  overwhelming  generosity  might 
be  crushing  in  its  denouement,  and  they  finally  settled 
into  the  decision  of  a  formal  announcement  of  their 
plan  and  a  request  for  her  co-operation  by  consent- 
ing to  its  development. 

Meantime  Elise  had  been  visited  by  her  uncle  and 
aunt  Gray,  who  begged  her  to  return  with  them  and 
share  the  shelter  of  their  roof  and  comforts  of  their 
home. 

It  grieved  Elise  to  hold  out  in  a  seeming  obstinacy 
against  their  urgent  wishes.  She  had  indeed  given 
it  some  thought,  before  their  arrival,  but  Mrs.  Healey 
had  also  extended  to  her  the  same  privilege,  and  she 
could  not  bear  so  soon  to  give  up  her  beautiful  home 
to  which  she  had  so  long  been  looking  forward  as  a 
refuge  and  bower — a  "bower  of  ease"  then,  but 
now  a  bower  of  independent  comfort. 

"  I  have  thought  it  all  out,  dear  aunt,"  she  said  ; 
"independence  is  my  life — you  know  I  have  always 
been  my  own  chief — and  if  you  take  that  away,  you 
will  change  my  nature  :  I  shall  droop  and  pine  and 
die.  You  think  this  wild  talk,  but  wait — let  me  tell 
you  what  I  have  evolved  out  of  the  chaos  of  my 
brain.  Now,  listen,  this  is  the  oracular  response  of 
the  Pythia;  and  true  to  her  dramatic  instincts  and 
irrepressible  native  humor,  she  seated  herself  upon  a 
tripod,  dishevelled  her  tresses,  and  proclaimed  :  " 


VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE.  193 

"  Elise  Archer,  the  spoiled  favorite  of  the  gods  and 
men  (that  is  the  generic  term  for  everybody,  auntie," 
she  said  demurely  sotto  voce),  "  by  reason  of  her  many 
unused  endowments  and  accomplishments  is  hereby 
decreed  to  put  the  same  into  active  use  for  a  space 
and  half  a  space  and  six  moons !  She  shall  make  use 
of  her  new  house  for  this  worthy  purpose,  converting 
it  into  halls  and  studios  where  the  ancient  arts  of 
embroidery  and  painting  and  carving  may  be  carried 
on  in  their  beauty  and  perfection.  She  shall  thus 
preserve  her  fingers  from  stiffening  and  her  mind 
from  rust  and  her  heart  from  vanity.  So  saith  the 
Pythia  by  the  order  of  his  most  oracular  majesty,  the 
Great  Apollo  ! " 

Having  announced  this  decree  with  a  "  wildly  im- 
pressive look  laden  with  resolution,  affection,  and 
prophetic  vision,"  she  rushed  over  to  her -aunt's 
arms — who  was  overcome  with  mingled  grief  and 
laughter  at  the  enthusiastic  bravery  and  undaunted 
mirthfulness  that  could  enact  a  scene  in  the  very 
teeth  of  Misfortune,  and  heroically  laugh  in  his  face. 

She  was  touched  with  her  niece's  happy  ignorance 
of  the  many  rebuffs  that  were  awaiting  her  encounter 
with  the  stern,  hard  world,  and  her  buoyant  trust  in 
the  virgin  untried  wares  which  she  was  about  to 
offer  in  its  market. 

Her  eyes  were  bright  with  unshed  tears  as  she 
said:  "Well,  it  will  keep  you  busy,  and  that  is  more 
than  half  of  life,  and  of  course  your  uncle  and  I  will 
keep  an  eye  on  you,  and  a  pretty  close  one,  too,  dear," 
she  added  with  a  kiss. 

Elise  sought  Gran  soon  after  the  blows  fell,  as  be- 
ing the  one  person  nearest  the  heaven  which  seemed 
all  so  dark  to  her  now,  and  best  able  to  open  for  her 
rifts  of  light  in  the  clouds.  Standing  so  near  the 
threshold  of  that  impenetrable  mystery,  she  thought 
she  must  have  caught  glimpses  and  had  messages  of 
the  scheme  by  which  the  affairs  of  our  little  earth 
were  conducted.  It  seemed  so  all-mysterious  to  Elise 
that  everything  should  go — and  she  found  herself 

13 


194  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

wondering  what  she  had  done  to  merit  such  punish- 
ment. 

"  Oh !  "  said  she,  lifting  her  head  from  the  dear 
old  lap  as  she  was  seated  low  by  G-ran's  side,  "if  I 
had  only  known  it !  I  would  like  to  have  done  so 
much  more  with  it— made  so  many  people  happy— 
but  we  never  know."  She  paused  and  mused  with 
her  head  again  down. 

"But  I  want  to  know  now,  Gran,  about  present 
duty  so  as  not  to  be  sorry,  when  this  October-wheel 
turns  round  again  and  lets  me  out  somewhere  else, 
that  I  have  not  come  up  to  the  standard  of  my 
privileges.  This  is  an  inscrutable  providence,  of 
course  ;  nobody  can  comprehend  the  why  or  where- 
fore— probably  I  deserve  the  punishment.'1 

If  Gran  heard  the  allusion  to  Elise's  month-of- 
mystery,  she  doubtless  thought  she  misunderstood,  as 
her  hearing  was  slightly  defective;  when  the  mean- 
ing was  tolerably  clear  she  never  asked  for  a  repeti- 
tion of  speech,  but  answered  according  to  her  com- 
prehension of  it. 

"But,  my  child,"  said  Gran,  "it  isn't  always  pun- 
ishment that  we  require^  but  a  little  discipline  now 
and  then,  or  perhaps  a  very  severe  stroke.  If  it  would 
comfort  you  any,  my  child,"  she  said,  laying  her 
emaciated  fingers  on  the  dear  bowed  head,  "you  may 
think  of  it  as  discipline.  All  children  require  that, 
and  in  eternity  we  shall  think  none  too  severe,  if  it 
is  the  price  we  must  pay  for  entrance  yonder,"  and 
she  raised  her  eyes,  and  pointed  with  a  rapturous  look 
to  the  upper  spheres. 

"  Don't  understand  me  to  mean,"  she  continued, 
"that  we  are  purchasing  heaven  by  submitting  with 
resignation  to  the  discipline,  but  that  we  are  like  the 
obedient  child  who  fulfills  his  Father's  conditions, 
while  he  is  waiting  with  a  loving,  trusting  spirit  to 
be  restored  to  his  Father's  home — knowing  that 
they  are  working  graces  in  him  that  will  make  him 
meet  for  that  inheritance  which  his  Saviour  has  already 
purchased  for  him.  You  must  talk  with  your  Saviour 


VOICES  FROM  THE  VILLAGE.  195 

about  it,  dear  child  ;  perhaps  you  have  been  neglect- 
ing Him  of  late.  For  you  know,  DO  matter  how 
much  you  do  for  Him — that  is  all  good,  of  course, 
and  I  don't  want  to  undervalue  it — but  He  never 
wants  you  to  be  so  busy  that  you  can't  come  and 
have  some  little  talk  with  Him  about  yourself  and 
what  you've  been  doing  and  want  to  do.  Would 
your  mother  be  satisfied,  do  you  suppose,  if  you  were 
in  the  same  town,  and  so  full  of  ministries  to  the 
poor  and  destitute,  and  your  own  pleasures,  that 
you  never  even  peeped  into  her  chamber  to  get  her 
counsel  as  well  as  her  caress  and  warm  expressions  of 
parental  love  ?  " 

Thin  allusion,  so  full  of  the  tender  memories  of  the 
past,  so  choked  Elise's  utterance  that  she  could  not 
reply. 

"  Perhaps  you  haven't  been  to  the  audience-room 
— the  consecrated  closet — where  at  the  mercy-seat, 
you  may  talk  with  your  Divine  Master  and  see  Him 
and  hear  His  gracious  voice  ?  " 

Elise  kissed  the  dear  withered  hands,  but  was  be- 
yond speech. 

"You  believe  it  is  all  for  the  best,  my  child?" 
grandma  interrogated. 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  care  for  the  money  !  "  Elise  burst 
out  impetuously — "  I  never  did  care  for  money  in 
the  sense  of  lovinar  it — neither  do  I  care  for —  Well, 

O 

Gran,"  she  said,  looking  up  into  her  face  with  a 
sweet  bewilderment — "Oh!  I  don't  care  for  anything 
that  has  happened;  that  is,  I  am  not  oppressed  by  it, 
but  I  don't  understand  it,  and  if  there  is  anything 
wrong  about  me  I  want  to  correct  it.  And  I  would 
like,  too,"  she  said,  musingly,  "to  know  just  what  I 
am  going  to  do.  The  Lord  has  a  place  for  me,  hasn't 
he,  Gran  ?  " 

Gran  was  looking  at  her  tenderly  ;  she  opened  her 
arms  as  if  to  receive  her,  and  then  said  with  a  sweet, 
deep  earnestness,  so  like  a  heavenly  voice  in  the  far- 
away tone  : 

"  '  He  will  carry  the  lambs  in  His  bosom  ' — there's 


196  1'titi  OPAL 

no  better  place  on  earth  or  in  heaven,  my  child ;  " 
and  she  closed  her  eyes  and  leaned  back  in  her  chair 
with  folded  hands  and  still  breathing,  broken  by  an 
occasional  faint,  choking  sound  arising  from  sup- 
pressed emotion.  A  solemn  stillness  fell  upon  them, 
for  Gran's  pleading  soul  was  committing  this  helpless 
one  into  the  arms  of  Infinite  Love  with  a  faith  that 
trusted  fully  in  His  infinite  tenderness. 

But  to  Elise  this  was  not  a  practical  solution  of 
the  difficulty;  her  spiritual  apprehension  was  not  yet 
so  quickened  as  to  produce  in  her  .anything  more 
than  a  dreamy,  vague  comfort  which  was  not  born 
of  a  living  faith — a  kind  of  soothing  false  rest  which 
she  felt  she  had  somehow  appropriated  because  it 
was  so  eminently  fitting  and  orthodox. 

But  Elise  was  not  left  to  her  solitary  shifts  in  her 
undertaking.  Indomitable  as  she  appeared,  her  ex- 
perienced friends  knew  that  contact  with  the  world 
in  search  of  the  desired  avenues  for  her  talent  might 
prove  a  disheartening  and  bitter  mockery. 

Good  Mr.  Drew  made  another  attempt  to  induce 
her  to  accept  her  grandfather's  legacy,  but  she 
continued  inflexible  in  her  resolution,  and  he  then 
turned  his  attention  in  the  direction  in  which  hers 
was  fixed,  endeavoring  to  enlist  pupils  for  her. 

Bertha  would  not  desert  her  mistress,  and  being 
herself  skilled  in  needle-work,  lace-making  and  em- 
broidery, immediately  set  about  turning  the  product 
of  those  accomplishments  into  the  common  fund. 

Through  Mrs.  Gray's  agency,  a  New  York  firm 
agreed  to  take  all  her  work  in  woolen  and  fancy 
goods,  so  that  the  outlook  was  promising,  and  Elise 
said  cheerfully  to  Bertha  one. day  : 

"We  never  knew  before  how  valuable  we  were, 
Bertha!  Surely  more  than  our  weight  in  gold  we'll 
prove  to  be  yet—that  ideal  phraseology  isn't  such  a 
fabulous  amount  after  all,  for  you  are  only  witch's 
weight  and  I  am  not  much  beyond  !  " 

Elise's  ideas  were  still  those  of  a  millionaire. 

Dr.  Healey  fully  endorsed  her  plan,  and  was  quietly 
doing  much  to  further  it. 


THE  OPAL  LEAGUE.  197 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  OPAL  LEAGUE. 

"  Every  day 

A  little  life,  a  blank  to  be  inscribed 
With  gentle  deeds,  such  as  in  after  time 
Console,  .rejoice,  whene'er  you  turn  the  leaf 
To  read  them." 

Rogers. 

ELISE  was  much  moved  when  her  young  friends 
disclosed  to  her  their  plan  for  conducting  the  next 
Greek  festival. 

"  Dear,  sweet  things  !  "  she  said,  with  eyes  all  shin- 
ing as  if  with  tears  behind  them,  and  putting  her 
arms  around  as  many  as  she  could  enclose,  as  they 
were  all  standing  in  a  bunch  in  her  library. 

"  You  know  you  are  our  '  Opal  Queen '  just  as 
much  as  ever,"  said  little  Miss  Tete,  stealing  her 
hand  around  the  Queen's  waist. 

"  And  we  are  more  loyal  than  ever,"  declared  Miss 
Smart,  "  for  the  greatness  of  our  fallen  Queen  com- 
pels our  homage." 

She  had  commenced  bravely,  but  as  she  spoke,  as 
though  crushed  herself  with  the  sudden  comprehen- 
sion of  the  appalling  disaster,  she  only  insinuated  her 
meaning  in  the  rest  of  her  sentence,  sunk  almost  into 
a  whisper,  and  an  instantaneous  hush  fell  upon  the 
silently  sympathetic  group. 

"Never  mind,  dear,"  said  Elise  tenderly,  "I  must 
learn  to  talk  about  it — why  not?  It  isn't  like  a 
crime,  you  know,  and  see  what  good  it  has  done  al- 
ready, in  uniting  us  into  a  real  sisterhood  !  I  am  not 
sure,"  she  said,  laughing,  "  but  you  better  reconsider 
the  voluntary  service,  get  absolved  from  your  alle* 


198  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

giance  to  tins  'fallen  Queen,'  for  I  foresee,"  she  said 
pathetically,  "  weary  wanderings  for  her  followers 
through  untrodden  paths  !  " 

"  If  we  take  it  on  a  march,"  said  Minnie  Love, 
"  and  in  a  body,  who's  afraid  ? — not  I !  " 

"Nor  I!  Nor  I !  "  echoed  jubilantly  through  the 
room. 

"Three  cheers  for  the  Opal  League!"  shouted 
Miss  Smart.  "  How  do  you  like  the  christening, 
Miss  Archer?" 

"I  could  tell  you  better  if  you  remembered  that  I, 
too,  once  had  a  christening,"  she  replied,  smiling. 

The  barriers  of  formality  were  broken  all  down 
now,  and  a  new  era  began  in  their  friendship.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  what  proved  an  effective  work- 
ing organization  for  contact  with  the  suffering  poor 
of  the  village.  And  in  their  meetings,  plannings, 
discussions,  these  girls  developed  faculties  all  lying 
dormant  and  fallen  quite  useless  before.  : 

Elise  thought  that  all  their  desires  could  be  better 
realized  by  postponing  "our  entertainment,"  as  she 
called  it,  until  the  spring. 

"  Miss  Love  would  like  it  now,"  she  said. 

Miss  Love  protested. 

"I  know  you  give  me  the  precedence,  dear,  but 
you  would  take  it,  would  you  not,  if  we  all  agreed  it 
was  best  ?  " 

"  Sans  doute"  she  replied,  "  as  a  loyal  member  of 
the  Opal  League  is  bound  to  do." 

"  Bien ;  attendez,  mesdemoiselles  de  la  League 
Opalique  !  " 

At  this  impromptu  introduction,  inspired  by  Miss 
Smart's  sally  into  a  foreign  language,  there  were 
shouts  of  laughter,  and  a  confused  mingling  of  "Bien, 
beaucoup  bien.  C'est  un  bonne  chose,  ce  nomme-ci,  si 
drolle  n'est'ce  pas  ?  "  etc.,  etc. 

"  What  I  was  going  to  say,"  resumed  Elise,  after 
some  quiet  was  obtained,  "is  just  this:  My  last  win- 
ter's dress  will  answer  for  another  festival." 

A  blending  of  voices,  ejaculating  deprecatingly, 


THE  OPAL  LEAGUE.  199 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  No  !  No  !  No,  indeed  !  "  followed  this  pro- 
clamation. 

Elise  touched  her  bell,  and  Bertha  appeared.  She 
whispered  an  order,  and  Bertha  vanished,  and  then 
reappeared  with  the  rejected  costume. 

Elise  shook  it  out  before  their  eyes,  saying  gayly  : 

"  I  mustn't  be  proud  and  extravagant  as  well  as 
poor — that  is  too  much  for  one  personality  !  I  should 
be  immensely  ashamed  of  myself  now"  she  added 
with  a  spirited  dignity,  "if  I  refuse  to  wear  so  good 
a  dress.  I  know  well  your  feeling  for  me.  You 
think  it  might  indicate  to  some  weak-headed  sister — 
excuse  me,"  she  said,  "  that  is  harsh,  but  the  plain 
truth — an  impoverished  wardrobe.  That  it  is  such  a 
symbol  in  this  particular  case  has  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  Once,  I  would  not  have  worn  it  again,  not  be- 
cause I  didn't  dare,  but  because  getting  new  ones 
was  easy,  and  the  correct  thing,  you  know,  and  I 
liked  it.  /was  one  of  those  (she  made  a  bow  over 
her  left  shoulder  as  if  to  some  dismissed  parties  in 
the  background)  I  spoke  of. 

There  was  a  gentle  murmuring  of  voices  as  heads 
were  put  together  again  in  consultation,  and  then 
Miss  Love  said  : 

"  We  quite  agree  with  you,  Elise,  if  we  may  trans- 
fer our  good  intentions  to  tke  spring  suit,  which  is  to 
be  for  field  sports,  and  made  a  la  Diana,  you  know." 

"  Your  goodness  is  very  touching,"  Elise  said,  in  a 
subdued  tone,  which  they  interpreted  as  an  unquali- 
fied assent;  and  after  various  bits  of  talk,  in  which 
the  new  costume  was  conned  from  illuminated  plates 
in  the  library,  the  Opal  League  adjourned  sine  die. 


200  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ARTHURS  LETTER  AND  CHANNING'S  CONFESSION. 

DEAR  CHAN, 

If  it  is  your  purpose  to  serve  upon  me  that 
forbidden  law,  lex  talionis,  or  in  plain  English 
"  tit  for  tat,"  I  shall  cry  out  for  "  quarter,"  for,  be 
the  spirit  never  so  willing,  the  time  is  absolutely 
wanting.  My  case,  as  you  know,  is  to  come  off  next 
quarter-sessions,  and  requires  every  moment  for  prep- 
aration. I  have  given  it  the  emphasis  of  the  singu- 
lar, for  the  importance  it  assumes  in  my  own  mind 
and  is  likely  to  arouse  in  others  will  cause  it  to  rank 
pre-eminently  as  the  case  of  cases. 

I  have  just  a  moment  for  a  word  of  warning,  which, 
as  you  have  not  written  for  a  long  time,  may  now 
indeed  be  inapropos ;  for  if  you  have  been  ensnared 
by  some  fair  one  (as  I  half  suspect),  the  slight  en- 
chantment may  be  now  outgrown  or  lost  sight  of. 

But  nevertheless  I  must  give  you  the  best  proof 
of  my  friendship  by  finding  a  little  fault  with  you. 

You  appear  to  be  manufacturing,  of  late,  a  new  con- 
diment for  the  dish  of  chat  with  which  you  generously 
favor  me.  There  is  a  suspicion  of  sarcasm  in  your 
pen-portraits  of  Belinda,  which,  as  it  is  foreign  to 
your  nature,  must  have  had  some  recent  provoking 
cause.  I  cannot,  consistently  with  my  theory  of  love, 
attribute  it  to  that  passion,  and  am  equally  at  a  loss 
when  I  hypotheticate  a  disappointment  in  love  ;  for 
the  heavens  may  fall,  but  Channing  Earle,  never, 
from  the  grace  of  the  ladies.  I  confess  to  being 
puzzled,  and  beg  you  to  return  to  that  easy  abandon 


CHANNING'S  CONFESSION.    •  201 

of  confidence  with  which  you   were  wont  to  grace 
your  epistles  while  opening  your  heart  to, 

Yours  anxiously, 

ART. 

P.  S. — After  all,  Chan,  my  perceptions  may  be 
overwrought,  my  digestion  at  fault,  or  my  eyes 
hypercritical — in  which  case  I  plead  guilty — and  am 
beforehand  assured  of  your  pardon. 

Faithfully, 

ART. 
DEAR  ART  : 

Nerves,  unlike  the  muscles,  cannot  be  dared, 
intimidated,  or  bullied  into  action.  They  must 
be  coaxed  and  flattered ;  nourish  them,  pet  them 
and  put  them  in  as  good  trim  as  you  do  your 
favorite  racer,  and  they  will  make  as  good  time. 
Now  I  confess  to  you,  best  of  chums,  that  my  nerves 
have  been  sadly  out  of  trim,  and  that  may  account 
for  the  acidulous  flavor  you  mention  in  my  last  letters. 
You  are  kind  enough  to  say  that  it  is  very  slight — 
the  merest  suggestion — and  to  even  hint  at  want  of 
perception  or  preternatural  perception  on  your  own 
part.  I  declare  in  all  honesty  that  I  was  not  aware 
of  it,  and  must  attach  the  blame,  if  blame  there  is,  to 
the  out-of-sorts  condition  of  this  human  machine  I 
am  undertaking  to  run. 

I  am  conscious  of  spasms  of  a  vague  good-for- 
nothingness  that  subtract  much  sweetness  from  me, 
and  the  remainder  might  naturally  be  a  little  tart. 

You  refer  to  an  unusual  reserve,  and  beg  me  to 
return  to  my  "old  abandon  of  confidence  "  in  our 
correspondence.  I  confess  to  a  neglect  of  this  privi- 
lege, which  might  have  proved  a  tonic  as  well  as 
safety-valve.  But,  as  I  wrote  you,  time  has  been  at 
the  highest  premium,  and  I  could  not  buy,  beg,  or 
steal  any  more  than  my  natural  allotment,  which 
was  not  by  one  quarter  enough  for  my  own  use. 
The  lectures,  the  studies,  the  essays,  the  social  allure- 
ments— "  ay,  there's  the  rub  !  "  The  insane  attempt 
to  add  these  to  a  budget  already  overfull  is  the  rock 


202  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

upon  which  I  split!  But  it  is  over  now,  and  the 
lesson  has  not  been  without  its  uses,  one  of  which  I 
may  truly  say  is  that  it  has  driven  me  back  to  you 
with  a  purer  and  warmer  friendship,  if  that  were 
possible.  There  are  reciprocal  obligations  implied 
and  understood  in  all  true  friendships — we  require 
of  our  friends  a  complete  and  ready  sympathy,  we 
owe  them  a  perfect  love  and  trust.  It  becomes  the 
duty  of  the  highest  friendship  to  explain  mysteries 
in  conduct  or  language  that  might  legitimately  be 
withheld  from  the  curious  and  the  remote  in  affection. 

It  is,  I  think,  equally  our  duty  to  assume  the  high- 
est and  purest  motives  in  connection  with  those  mys- 
teries to  us  inexplicable — it  is  here  that  the  love  that 
trusts,  trusts  still  in  the  dark. 

But  you  did  not  expect  a  homily,  and  I  doubt  very 
much  if  you  are  prepared  for  a  confession,  notwith- 
standing your  flattering  jest  about  "  disappointment 
in  love,"  etc. ;  and  I  venture  to  say  that  you  cannot 
possibly  divine  it,  for  while  I  am  not  the  only  living 
type  of  the  kind  of  manhood  now  under  considera- 
tion, as  far  as  my  observation  goes  I  am  in  the 
glorious  minority.  Carlyle  says  :"  Life  goes  all  to 
ravels  and  tatters  where  self-denial  is  not." 

This,  then,  is  my  confession — I  have  been  practic- 
ing the  magnanimous  art  of  self-denial  and  saving 
my  life  from  those  "  ravels  and  tatters."  It  is  un- 
doubtedly a  satisfaction  to  know  that  one's  life  is  a 
whole  piece  of  webbing  and  not  in  fragments.  I 
cannot  speak  with  any  great  degree  of  confidence  of 
the  beauty  of  the  present  web,  but  I  think  it  strong 
so  far  as  finished.  If  the  colors  are  grave,  we  will 
call  it  that  sober  richness  of  soft  grays  which  is  the 
ambition  and  the  delight  of  the  modern  aesthete. 

But  I  hear  you  say,  "How  you  run  on  without 
giving  a  fellow  one  lucid  idea  !  "  Yes,  that  is  my  forte 
and  my  necessity  when  you  get  me  into  these  fits  of 
"abandon  "  that  you  have  been  clamoring  for;  more- 
over the  weigh ter  the  document,  the  longer  the  pre- 
amble, you  know.  You,  who  are  offering  your  devo- 


CHANNING'S  CONFESSION.  203 

tions  at  the  shrine  of  Themis,  ought  to  appreciate  a 
little  scientific  dodging  of  the  point  at  issue,  to  gain 
time  to  present  the  case  in  its  most  favorable  aspects. 
But  my  witnesses  are  all  in,  the  clerk  has  announced 
the  hearing,  the  judge  eyes  me  calmly  and  wisely 
from  the  bench,  and  the  prisoner — is  before  you  col- 
lecting evidence,  which,  as  he  is  his  own  counsel,  he 
will  now  present  to  this  high  and  secret  tribunal. 

Belinda  came,  she  saw,  she  conquered! — old  as 
Csesar  and  true  as  gospel — and  where  there  is  ac- 
knowledgement of  the  cause  of  arraignment  there 
need  be  no  comment..  The  case  would  stand  ad- 
journed sine  die,  if  that  were  all — but  there  is  a  slight 
addendum. 

With  the  nerve  of  a  Brutus  or  a  Manlius  (who 
caused  his  own  son  to  be  slain  because  he  disobeyed 
military  tactics),  I  trained  myself  to  fight  the  des- 
perate battle  of  self-denial.  I  knew  I  had  a  chance, 
fc/r  she  was  too  noble-minded  to  be  influenced  by  my 
poverty.  I  saw  that  in  the  beginning — but  I  would 
not  sacrifice  my  career  on  the  altar  of  love.  I  could 
not  stand  calmly  by  and  see  it  burn  to  ashes,  and  Pater 
and  Superbaand  Gran  (either  in  heaven  or  on  earth) 
brushing  away  silent  tears  incontinently  shed,  for 
whose  existence  I  was  responsible.  I  could  not  im- 
peril rny  manhood  by  touching  a  full  purse  that  I  had 
not  earned.  Golden  booty.  Perish  the  thought !  I 
should  abhor  myself  !  I  deliberately  chose  my 
bachelorhood  and  independence.  What  say  you, 
was  I  right  ?  I  would  rather  be  rir/ht  than  the  treas- 
urer of  any  belle's  millions !  But — the  end's  not 
yet,  there  is  a  tale  to  unfold — the  sequel  has  the  savor 
of  romance.  Light  is  dawning,  hope  is  rising,  the 
abjured  star  may  yet  be  my  star !  She  still  lives, 
and  I  live — and  what  may  come  of  it,  time  and  God 
alone  can  tell.  I  speak  reverently  in  this  juncture, 
for  I  must  acknowledge  the  Providence  that  rules 
over  the  destinies  of  men,  and  leave  all  to  his 
supreme  arbitration. 

One  crisis  in  my  history  I  can  safely  count  as  past; 


204  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

when  the  others  may  come,  and  how  I  will  acquit 
myself,  the  Infinite  Judge  alone  can  tell! 

Why,  Art,  there  were  days  and  nights  when  life 
was  an  intolerable  burden,  and  death  would  have  been 
a  messenger  of  sweet  relief,  for  not  only  were  the 
passions  of  my  souls  haken,  but  the  foundations  of  my 
faith.  In  that  blind  chaos  I  would  have  been  glad 
to  have  had  Divine  Help,  for  no  human  help  could 
avail  in  such  a  fearful  struggle.  Theoretically,  I  w;is 
a  Christian — I  knew  that  there  was  a  so-called 
"  mercy-seat  "to  which  sinners  and  saints  and  all  poor 
bruised  and  battered  mortals  were  invited  to  come 
and  make  known  their  wants ;  I  knew  that  there  was 
divine  authority  for  the  belief  that  I  would  be  heard, 
in  the  Scripture  that  said,  "  Call  upon  me  in  the  day 
of  trouble  and  I  will  deliver  thee  and  thou  shalt 
glorify  me."  But  in  the  supreme  hour  of  conflict, 
even  the  Bible  WHS  a  compendium  of  "  cunningly  de- 
vised fables,"  and  the  whole  scheme  of  redemption  a 
mythical  fraud.  I  grew  old  in  a  day — I  seemed  to  have 
passed  from  youth  to  age,  and  I  shall  never  again  look 
through  a  magnifying  glass  upon  this  little  drama  of 
existence.  Pigmies  are  we  all  in  the  light  of  the 
infinite,  and  yet — pigmies  of  value.  I  admit  it,  for  no 
spark  struck  from  divinity  can  be  anything  less  than 
divine. 

The  flesh  succumbed  in  this  wearisome  ever-recur- 
ring, never-ending  warfare.  My  appetite  failed,  my 
muscle  bolted,  my  eyes  looked  hollow,  and  I — joked 
when  I  could  and  prayed  when  I  dared !  "  Oh 
Heavens!  "  I  cried,  "if!  had  a  God,  I  would  go  to 
Him."  I  had  always  been  morally  observant,  but  I 
lacked  the  ingrowing  principle.  Gran  often  said  that 
I  was  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven — but  I 
felt  that  I  was  just  far  enough  to  be  shut  out ! 

It  was  in  some  such  state  as  this  that  I  went  to 
the  breakfast  one  morning,  after  a  sleepless  night. 
Gran,  whose  eyes  are  keen  as  a  hawk's,  detected  my 
vigils  and  whether  she  had  been  having  her  own 
speculations  as  to  the  cause,  or  whether  by  direct 


CHANNING'S  CONFESSION.  205 

inspiration  I  know  not,  but  she  looked  at  me  and 
said,  with  a  sweet  tenderness — and  in  her  far-away 
tone  it  sounded  like  a  voice  from  the  throne  with 
bells  of  heaven  all  ringing.  "  Channing,  '  He  that 
trusteth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool,  but  he  that  walk- 
eth  wisely  shall  be  delivered.'  I  have  proved  that 
promise  for  seventy  years  my  child,  do  you  think  it 
has  been  tested  enough  for  you  to  try  it?  " 

What  a  blessed  word  !  How  it  dropped  like  a 
healing  balm  on  the  lacerated  wound  ! — and  I  tried 
it.  Art,  and  I  found  it  true,  and  I  took — what  do  you 
think  ?  What  can  an  infinite  God  give  that  man 
cannot  take  away  ?  I  took  from  that  sanctified 
altar  of  suffering,  peace — the  "  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding." 

And  then  I  was  on  my  best  level  again. 

But  the  sequel — are  you  impatient  for  the  denoue- 
ment ?  But  it  is  no  such  thing  as  you  imagine,  in 
one  sense  it  is  full  of  a  pyramidal  woe — but  as  I  said, 
there  is  light  in  the  darkness,  and  a  light  whose  beams 
fall  on  two  who  are  growing  very  dear  to  each  other 
— but  I  anticipate. 

What  think  you  ?  The  money,  the  millions,  vanished 
in  a  night,  fire  and  robbery  swallowed  them  !  And 
the  lover  she  had  taken  to  herself  renounced  her 
next  day  ! 

And  now  I  am  suddenly  conscious  that,  since  you 
say  I  have  failed  to  indite  my  weekly  post,  you  are 
ignorant  of  some  of  my  allusions  in  this  letter.  There 
is  much  incoherence  and  ellipse  about  my  confession, 
I  know,  but  have  patience,  Art ;  it  is  unfair  to  expect 
a  stream  that  has  been  cascading,  suddenly  to  mean- 
der with  the  gentle  proprieties  of  a  mountain  rivulet, 
or  the  steady,  even  flow  of  the  majestic  river  with 
pictured  banks.  The  river  and  banks  are  all  there, 
but  you  must  wait  for  the  subsidence  of  the  flood. 

But  now  for  the  enlightenment  as  to  the  lover. 

.  Otto   Dresson    is  a  full-blooded  specimen    of  not 

overly  young  manhood — my  senior  by  seven  years. 

He  is  called  a  young  man  of  fortune,  and  known  to 


206  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

be  a  fortune-hunter — so  a  quiet  rumor  affirms.  He 
was  the  lion  of  a  village  already  overstocked  with 
rare  specimens  of  that  noble  beast.  The  girls  petted, 
the  mothers  fawned,  arid  the  father  acquiesced  with 
a  suspicious  eye  slightly  turned  outwards. 

He  captured  the  "  Opal  Queen,"  and  the  world — 
our  little  one — said  that  it  would  be  a  match  of  ex- 
ceptional fitness  in  the  harmony  of  spheres  and 
the  aesthetic  cosmos — "  quite  the  correct  thing,  you 
know."  They  seemed  to  be  very  happy.  The  "  Opal 
Queen "  was  still  every  inch  a  queen,  and  drew 
around  her  a  loving  train  of  followers.  And  now 
let  me  say,  once  for  all,  that  whatever  of  satire  you 
saw,  or  thought  you  saw,  must  have  been  caused  by 
my  point  of  view  and  the  green-colored  glasses  -that 
were  somehow  astride  my  nose.  When  I  say  that 
she  is,  and  has  been,  as  near  perfection  as  frail 
mortality  can  reach,  you  will  absolve  me  from  the  un- 
intentional but  contemptible  sin  of  slander. 

The  u  Opal  Queen  "  has  a  fearless  and  independent, 
genial,  loving  nature,  blended  with  a  refined  modesty 
and  rare  exuberance  of  spirits  and  grace  of  manner. 
She  is  self-reliant,  without  arrogance ;  impulsive, 
without  impetuosity ;  and  she  is  all  truth,  white- 
souled  truth  and  purity.  On  account  of  her  social 
status,  beauty,  and  immense  wealth,  she  has  received 
adulation  and  homage  enough  to  make  rockets  of 
her,  if  she  was  of  combustible  material.  She  expects 
it,  she  receives  it,  she  does  not  value  it,  consequently, 
but  this  she  does  not  know.  She  seems  invincible 
by  the  loss  of  money,  but  touched  at  the  loss  of 
friend ;  was  the  victim  of  a  considerable  shock  when 
Dresson  treacherously  deserted  her.  But  she  is 
wonderfully  elastic,  has  a  rich  vitality  of  fancy 
and  impulse  that  makes  her  almost  visionary — mind, 
I  say  almost,  for  her  sound  judgment  steps  in  always, 
even  if  at  the  last  moment,  to  control  the  purely 
ideal.  Her  mind  is  tinged  with  a  "  mild  superstition 
which  gives  to  her  life  the  mystery  of  a  perpetual 
romance."  She  belongs  to  the  aristocracy  of  wealth, 


CHANNING'S  CONFESSION.  207 

while  I,  me  judice,  am  enrolled  in  the  aristocracy  of 
honor,  which  includes  education,  moral  principle,  and 
correct  manners,  according  to  Pater's  definition. 

Dresson  probably  claimed  both  and  bore  escut- 
cheons on  his  shoulder.  But  now  his  claims  are 
trailed  in  the  dust  of  the  ground.  He  preserves  a 
fine  affectation  of  annoyance,  and  says  plaintively,  in 
the  words  of  St.  Remis  to  Clovis  :  "  Henceforth  we 
must  burn  what  we  have  worshipped  and  worship 
what  we  have  burned,"  but  into  his  heart  I  have  no 
doubt  the  motto  is  seared,  Operce  pretium  non  est! 
(the  labor  would  cost  more  than  it  comes  to).  In- 
stead of  regulating  his  conduct  by  his  art-divinity,  he 
seems  suddenly  to  have  left  her  for  the  shrine  of 
mathematics,  conforming  his  actions  to  the  axiom, 
"  The  addition  of  a  negative  quantity  is  equivalent  to 
the  subtraction  of  apositive."  Carlyle  says  "A  small 
proportion  of  intellect  will  serve  a  man's  turn,  if  all 
the  rest  be  right;  "  but  the  trouble  with  Dresson  is 
that  all  the  rest  isn't  right.  Perhaps  this  pressure 
may  be  the  indurating  agency  which  will  convert  the 
sandstone,  mud,  and  clay  of  his  being  into  the  con- 
glomerate, but  a  trifle  more  substantial,  shale!  But 
I  am  hard  on  him,  and  who  knows  but  his  egregious 
blunder  (to  put  it  very  mildly,  for  he  has  undoubtedly 
committed  the  crimen  falsi)  may  be  my  triumph. 

I  say  it  to  myself  very  softly,  just  venturing  a  hope, 
but.  mulier  semper  mutabilis,  and  woe  unto  that  man 
who  attempts  to  predict  the  end  from  the  beginning 
in  such  matters. 


208  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

CHANNING  REVIEWS  THE  SITUATION. 

"  All  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  delights, 

Whatever  stirs  this  mortal  frame, 
All  are  but  ministers  of  Love, 
And  feed  his  sacred  flame." 

Coleridge. 

IF  Charming  was  in  a  dilemma  before  the  sudden 
access  of  misfortune  to  Elise  in  the  loss  of  her  mil- 
lions and  the  inglorious  collapse  of  her  lover,  after 
these  disasters,  his  own  peculiar  interest  in  the  altered 
cosmogony  of  her  being  seemed  complicated  four- 
fold. With  all  its  sinuosities  and  temptations,  the 
way  had  hitherto  been  blocked  up.  His  condition 
was  that  of  a  traveller  within  sight  of  the  land  of  his 
hopes,  without  the  necessary  passport  to  cross  its 
border. 

But  now  he  hesitated  to  enter  the  open  way !  A 
sudden  advance  might  be  deemed  impertinent  to  one 
likely  to  require  a  space  for  readjustment  to  her  new 
sphere  ;  and  yet  now,  if  ever,  her  friends  should  rally 
around  her  with  sympathetic,  encouraging  words. 

The  duty  of  respectful  and  genial  condolence, 
however,  was  not  the  problem  that  occupied  his 
thoughts,  but  how  to  follow  up  the  glittering  pros- 
pect of  success  opened  up  by  Change,  the  mighty 
conjurer,  before  his  dazed,  still  incredulous  eyes  ;  and 
it  was  not  so  much  the  how — he  trusted  his  practical 
sagacity  for  that — as  the  cui  bono,  the  expediency  of 
the  pursuit,  that  perplexed  him.  He  thought  himself 
wound  up  in  the  threads  of  a  fate  too  intricate  for 
disentanglement,  for  here  once  more  his  heart  was  at 


CHANNING  REVIEWS  THE  SITUATION.        209 

war  with  his  judgment.  Should  he  be  guided  by 
the  former,  he  would  rush  into  her  presence  with  the 
fervor  of  an  enraptured  lover,  and  while  bewailing  her 
loss,  beg  her  to  permit  him  to  be  her  solace  evermore, 
to  fill  the  breach  with  himself,  his  heart  for  the  trai- 
tor's, his  prospective  life-work,  with  its  capital  of 
brains,  for  the  sunken  fortune.  But  he  felt  that 
the  rebound  of  hearts  is  not  always  in  the  direc- 
tion of  easy  transfer,  and  while  he  trusted  in  the 
sustained  buoyancy  of  Elise's  nature  for  his  proph- 
ecy that  she  would  not  be  crushed,  he  felt  that 
impetuosity  would  give  it  another  shock  and  im- 
peril the  elasticity  of  its  spring  for  a  new  object  of 
affection.  He  doubted,  indeed,  whether  he  had  made 
any  lasting  impresson  upon  her.  And  now  he  fell 
into  lonely,  quiet,  reviewing  moods  of  their  whole 
parallel  history. 

He  could  summon  it  all  from  the  chambers  of  a 
tenacious  memory  furnished  with  the  supplementary 
aid  of  a  quickened  sensibility  through  a  jealous  eye. 
And  in  the  intervals  of  fragrant  musings  with  friendly 
cigars,  he  held  up  the  bygone  scenes  in  retrospec- 
tion, for  study — charts  they  were,  by  which  he  could 
navigate  his  course  on  this  great  sea  of  a  coveted  love- 
possession.  Every  act,  every  word,  seemed  photo- 
graphed on  his  heart— he  lived  over  again  the  mo- 
ments of  bliss  and  of  agony,  without  catching  any 
inspiring  gales  for  launching  his  craft  on  the  troubled 
sea.  He  remembered  gentle  words  of  praise  or  of 
confidence,  but  they  were  the  pretty  phrases  of  her 
polite  womanhood — the  small  coin  passing  current  in 
the  jingling  show  of  life  to  accelerate  the  nimble- 
footed  dancers.  He  found  most  encouragement  from 
her  moments  of  thoughtful  silence.  But  what  right, 
he  inquired,  had  he  to  infer  from  these  that  there 
was  an  unguarded  spot  in  her  heart's  citadel,  through 
which  he  might  enter  ?  He  did  not  know,  he  only 
felt;  he  had  experienced  at  these  times  a  certain 
magnetic  vibration,  that  he  had  not  cared  to  explain 
because  it  had  no  right  of  birth,  and  to  question 

14 


210  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

might  encourage  a  repetition — to  check  was  the  duty 
of  the  moment.  He  remembered  with  a  thrill  of 
keen  delight  the  unconscious  submission  of  her  taste 
to  his  on  the  evening  of  the  first  Greek  festival — the 
pretty  abandon  with  which  she  acknowledged  her- 
self compliant  to  his  wishes  in  the  matter  of  dressing 
her  hair,  and  the  implied  renunciation  of  Dresson  as 
her  critical  arbiter  and  adviser,  and  the  temporary 
enthronement  of  himself.  What  did  she  mean? 
He  did  not  know.  He  only  knew  that  for  one  deli- 
cious moment  she  seemed  to  be  in  his  arms,  and  he  felt 
the  pride  of  ownership.  But  that  Dresson  was  not 
then  under  an  eclipse  of  her  favor  or  the  slightest 
shadow  even,  he  had  indubitable  proof,  when,  later,  she 
sparkled  with  the  unmistakable  love-glance — that  fell 
upon  unanswering  eyes — and  fondly  extended  her 
hand  to  draw  him  to  her  side. 

But  if  he  should  prove  victorious  in  the  chase, 
would  she  be  willing  to  wait?  he  inquired.  Would 
it  be  just  to  her  to  suffer  the  lapse  of  time  that  must 
intervene  before  he  could  maintain  her  in  accordance 
with  the  luxurious  tastes  and  habits  now  her  second 
nature  ?  Was  she  fitted  for  a  poor  man's  wife — -would 
she  be  able  to  endure  the  strain  ? 

If  Channing  had  not  possessed  a  logical,  judicial 
mind  which,  originally  premature  in  judgment,  had 
taken  a  great  leap  into  the  thoughtful  deliberation  of 
age  during  his  great  mental  crisis  when  he  was  striv- 
ing to  elude  his  misery,  in  a  life  full  of  a  portentous 
solemnity  beneath  the  shining  film — he  would  not 
now  be  weighing  the  pros  and  cons  of  the  propriety 
and  wisdom  of  courting  a  beautiful  woman  to  whom 
his  heart  was  already  heavily  mortgaged.  He  had 
denounced  the  transaction  and  abjured  the  payment, 
and  yet  with  unflagging  pertinacity  the  shadowy 
creditor  returned,  girded  with  the  power  of  an  in- 
spiration. 

But  that  struggle  had  also  intensified  his  naturally 
cautious  spirit  and  made  him  hesitate,  where  before 
he  dared. 


CHANNING  REVIEWS  THE  SITUATION.        211 

But  introspective  inquiry  had  the  customary  end- 
ing. There  is  a  certain  fatality  about  these  little 
private  entertainments  that  a  besieged  hero,  strug- 
gling to  get  free,  orders  up  for  his  refreshment  or 
invigoration  in  a  certain  line  of  pursuit  hitherto 
pretty  fairly  decided  upon.  They  stimulate  like 
champagne  and  end  as  most  such  suppers  do,  in  put- 
ting him  in  rosy  conjunction  with  himself  and  the 
object  of  his  desires. 

And  so  he  found  at  the  end  of  his  much  prolonged 
investigation  of  les  affaires  du  cceur — during  which 
Elise  had  appeared  and  reappeared  at"  least  a  hundred 
times  in  answer  to  h^s  summons,  with  the  same  be- 
witching smile  and  courtly  grace  of  manner — that  it 
was  a  fixed  tiling,  of  course,  that  he  should  address 

Miss  Archer,  and  then- ?  Why  then — with  the 

easy  confidence  of  youthful  ambition  backed  by  indom- 
itable emergy  and  marked  attainments  in  scholar- 
ship— somehow,  in  the  near  future  why  should  they 
not  marry  as  thousands  of  other  had  done,  and  live 
happily,  as  they  perforce  would,  on  what  the  good 
providence  of  God  should  send  them  ? 

And  he  visited  Miss  Archer. 

It  was  near  the  time  for  the  graduation  of  his  class 
at  the  Accademia  della  Crusca  ;  the  thesis  was  all  that 
would  claim  his  attention  at  present,  so  there  would 
be  time  for  the  cum  dulce  addition  to  his  daily  routine 
of  the  utilc. 

The  Professor  permitted  rather  than  approved  this 
final  exhibition  of  his  pupils,  being  won  over  by  the 
associate  professors  and  the  prevailing  sentiment  in 
the  village. 

He  expressed  a  wish  that  the  Greek  impromptu 
style  of  eloquence  should  be  closely  followed,  but 
did  not  insist  upon  this — realizing  probably  the 
infeasibility  of  the  plan  with  youths  who  had  been 
only  nine  months  under  training — but  hoped  that 
they  would  have  such  knowledge  of  their  subjects 
and  pursue  such  an  exhaustive  treatment  in  its  study 


212  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

that  they  might  closely  approach  this   standard,  if 
they  did  not  re^ch  it. 

The  young  men  concluded  to  do  both — to  study 
and  write,  and  also  to  trust  to  the  inspiration  of  the 
moment  for  those  flights  of  eloquence  that  often 
only  kindle  under  the  magnetism  of  an  appreciative 
audience. 


GATE  OP  "  THE  SAINTS*  &EST."  213 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

GATE  OF  "  THE  SAINTS'  REST." 

"And  hope  to  joy  is  little  less  in  joy 
Than  hope  enjoyed." 

Shakespeare. 

CHANNING  found  occasion  to  make  frequent  visits 
at  the  palace.  Superba  became  suddenly  afflicted 
with  serious  misgivings  about  Elise's  health  and 
daily  comforts,  and  discovered  that  the  only  relief 
for  her  anxious  fears  was  to  dispatch  Channing  with 
tender  messages  and  solicitous  inquiries,  or  with  a 
summons  for  her  appearance  immediately  at  the 
Saints'  Rest,  so  that  Gran  might  have  the  sight  of 
her  own  eyes  as  assurance  of  her  well-being. 

"  It's  almost  worth  while  to  make  the  plunge  from 
every  tiling  to  nothing,  since  I  have  fallen  into  the 
arms  of  so  many  friends  and  didn't  get  the  knocks. 
I  have  only  had  a  little  vigorous  shaking  up,  such  as 
the  Freshman  used  to  get  in  the  blanket,  and  who 
knows  but  it  may  be  the  making  of  me  }'et,''  Elise 
said,  laughingly,  holding  up  her  gloved  arm  and  an 
indefinite  number  of  buttons  for  Channing's  perusal. 

"  No  one  but  ourselves  can  compel  us  to  be  idle," 
he  observed,  gravely,  while  studying  his  task. 

"  But  something  outside  of  ourselves  may  compel 
us  to  be  industrious;  and  since  the  inward  propelling 
force  was  heretofore  absent,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be 
immensely  thankful  for  my  losses." 

"If  you  are  a  student  of  Christian  philosophy,  un- 
doubtedly. 'Diligent  in  business,'  you  know,  is  one 
of  the  apostolic  maxims." 


214  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  But  I  did  not  use  to  think  I  was  idle,"  she  said, 
reflecting  doubtfully,  and  paused. 

But  Channing  did  not  put  in  an  expected  dis- 
claimer or  by  delicate  insinuation  imply  the  reverse. 

"As  far  as  you  were  doing  good  work  for  eternity, 
you  bear  a  clear  record,"  he  remarked,  still  bent  over 
his  problem. 

"  It  might  be  questionable  whether  dainty  finger- 
work  for  personal  adornment  or  home  embellishment 
is  fulfilling  the  great  ends  of  life,  or,"  he  continued, 
thoughtfully,  "simplifying  the  problem  of  the  world's 
wretchedness.  Don't  understand  me  to  underrate 
your  benevolences,  Miss  Archer.  I  know  that  they 
have  been  wide  and  judicious — 

"  Not  always,"  she  interrupted. 

"  But  what  the  world  needs  most  just  now  is  not 
so  much  organized  benevolence  as  organized  love — 
the  one  gives  money,  the  other  gives  heart — a  lifting 
up  of  the  degraded  or  hope-ridden  mind  to  a  plane 
of  bright  endeavor  and  active  self-support.  4  The 
destruction  of  the  poor  is  their  poverty.'  Did  you 
ever  think  of  that,  Miss  Archer?"  The  wise  philos- 
opher who  had  an  inexhaustible  treasury  must  yet 
have  studied  pictures  of  absolute  want  and  squalor, 
or  he  could  never  have  written  that  sentence.  It  is 
always  a  pity  when  a  fashionable  furore  and  a  spirit 
of  rivalry  combined  are -permitted  to  squander  and 
misdirect  energies  that  the  world  still  needs,  and  will 
need  so  long  as  poverty  and  crime  hide  in  cellars  or 
stalk  in  our  streets. 

"  But  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,"  he  said,  looking 
up,  having  run  the  gauntlet  of  her  arm,  "for  drop- 
ping into  such  a  deep  veiiu  I  am  not  sure,"  he 
added,  "but  it  was  a  subtle  suggestion  of  thrs  dark 
blue  one,  just  here,"  laughing  and  outlining  the 
current  on  her  arm. 

"  No,  don't  change  the  subject,"  she  pleaded,  reso- 
lutely. "  I  have  often  thought  about  it  myself,  but 
I  get  perplexed  with  the  intricacies  of  the  great 
question  of  art  as  a  useful  factor  in  human  lives  ; 


GATE  OF  "  THE  SAINTS*  ItEST."  215 

honestly  there  comes  over  me,  sometimes  with  over- 
whelming power,  a  feeling  that  nothing  is  right,  no 
action  worthy,  but  direct  immediate  contact  with 
human  worry  and  human  suffering " 

"  '  How  can  they  sing  and  paint  when  they  do  not 
see  and  know?'  is  the  pathetic  wail  from  Carlyle's 
great,  burdened  heart,"  he  interrupted. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  added,  gracefully,  "  it  will  be  your 
mission  to  be  a  reformer  or  philanthropist.  There  is 
undoubtedly  a  good  germ  within  you — but  the  time 
is  not  yet,"  he  continued,  thoughtfully.  "Carlyle's 
denounced  field  of  painting  and  singing  is  just  now 
open  for  you,  and  you  are  just  now  equipped  for  the 
sallying  in  it  and  exploring  of  it.  That  way  Provi- 
dence leads — we  must  do  the  duty  lying  next  us, 
you  know — the  path  is  clear.  Sometime  your  Leader 
may  open  up  a  nobler  field,  but,  I  think  " — and  lie 
turned  as  they  were  walking,  drew  the  arm  within 
his  own  more  closely  (attracting  her  glance),  and 
regarded  her  steadfastly  as  he  said,  with  an  intensity 
of  meaning  in  his  deep  clear  gaze:  UI  think  there's 
something  to  come  first." 

"  Something  more  ! "  Elise  gasped  in  an  awe- 
stricken  whisper,  for  she  was  unaccountably  wrought 
up  by  the  fascination  of  his  manner.  Then  rallying: 
"What  more  can  come?  And  will  it  break  my 
heart?"  she  said,  in  an  arch,  airy  way.  "It  seems  to 
me,  Mr.  Earle,  that  1  have  gone  through  everything 
— yes,  everything  !  " 

"  There  remains  another  threshold  to  cross,"  he 
said,  with  quiet  pathos. 

Elise  was  consciously  subdued,  and  they  walked 
on  in  silence. 

"  I  suppose  it  will  come  in  April  then,"  she  said 
at  length  demurely.  "  My  destiny  hinges  on  those 
two  points,  October  and  April." 

"The  time  is  immaterial,"  he  replied,  "if  one  is 
only  ready  when  the  gate  swings,  so  as  to  step  aside 
and  not  get  jarred." 

As  they  were  at  the  moment  about  to  enter  the 


oifl  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

gate  of  "  The  Saints'  Rest,"  he  gently  drew  her  one 
side,  and  she  said  with  winning  sweetness,  all  uncon- 
scious of  the  deep  significance  to  him  : 

"  If  3'ou  are  only  there  to  give  me  the  same  assist- 
ance, I  may  possibly  escape." 

"  I  expect  to  be  there ! "  he  replied  in  the  same 
gravely  pathetic  tone. 

There  was  a  fascination  in  this  mystery  of  language 
and  deportment  that  gave  Channing  a  new  interest 
to  Elise.  She  wondered  if  it  had  not  assumed  a 
magnified  importance,  as  she  tossed  restlessly  that 
night,  still  under  his  spell,  reviewing  his  looks  and 
his  words,  and  pushing  out  vain  inquiries  of  his' 
probable  meaning. 

What  was  the  solution  of  the  prophetic  utterance  ? 
The  solemnity  of  his  manner  forbade  questioning  at 
the  time,  and  led  to  vague  suspicions  that  in  some 
way  it  was  connected  with  herself  and  him.  But 
just  how  he  could  be  the  sanctifying  cross  to  her 
soul,  she  failed  to  comprehend.  But  while  it  was  not 
possible  to  come  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion,  she  was 
conscious  of  a  quickened  pulse  when  he  was  asso- 
ciated with  her  thoughts,  and  wondered  secretly  if 
she  was  feeling  the  buddings  of  a  genuine,  ideal  love, 
such  as  she  had  dreamed  of  and  still  believed  attain- 
able even  on  this  mortal  sphere.  The  sweet  thought 
soothed  her,  and  she  forgot  for  the  moment  the  dread- 
ful cross  that  overshadowed  it,  spreading  out  baleful 
arms  to  enclose  her  even  while  the  sunlight  of  love 
was  bathing  her  head.  And  when  the  thought  did 
obtrude  itself,  she  said  cheerily: 

"Ah!  lie  shall  be  a  false  prophet.  Nothing  any 
worse  can  happen,  and  my  buoyancy  will  survive  the 
perils." 

Channing's  treatment  of  Elise  had  been  unre- 
strained and  full  of  a  certain  cordial  sympathy,  ever 
since  the  reverses;  it  had  intensified  at  that  critical 
moment,  and  she  conceived  it  as  representing  the 
general  feeling  towards  her,  and  symbolic  of  a  deep- 
ened friendship,  and  when  it  continued  without  in- 


GATE  OF  "  THE  SAINTS'  REST.1"  217 

terruption  and  abatement,  she  still  attributed  it  to 
the  same  motive,  and  did  not  look  for  the  larger  in- 
terpretation. 

He  felt  the  disadvantage  of  this.  He  was  con- 
scious that  Elise  regarded  him  only  as  a  warm  friend 
and  counsellor.  Yes,  he  was  glad  to  admit  that  she 
honored  him  with  that  proof  of  regard — and  he  had 
been  vainly  hoping,  for  a  time,  that  some  accident 
might  impress  upon  her  the  deeper  coloring  of  the 
tone  of  his  friendship. 

He  found  himself  wondering  if  she  was  perversely 
blind — and  then  blamed  himself  for  the  suspicion, 
because  he  knew  well  her  transparent  truthfulness. 
Half  the  girls  in  the  village  would  have  interpreted 
his  attentions  favorably  to  themselves  under  the  same 
circumstances,  and  counted  it  an  implied  engagement. 

But  Elise  was  so  intrinsically  unsuspicious  that  he 
was  puzzled  to  know  how  to  awaken  her.  Absence, 
after  unremitting  attentions,  might  reveal  to  her  his 
love,  but  he  was  not  ready  to  absent  himself  without 
a  pledge  of  her  troth.  And  to  precipitate  a  proposal 
no\v  would  be  fatal  to  his  hopes. 

He  had  gained  by  this  little  maneuver,  which 
sprang  out  of  the  subject,  and  was  with  no  intent  of 
his  a  diplomatic  feat,  but  nevertheless  the  fruits  of  a 
skilful  policy  accrued  to  him. 

He  perceived  that  she  was  more  gently  deferent  to 
his  wishes,  if  that  were  possible,  even  quietly  antici- 
pated them  ;  not  that  there  had  been  any  perceptible 
lack  before,  but  now  there  was  a  touch  of  that  inex- 
pressible something,  that  mysterious  witchery  of  a 
softened  manner  that  an  awakening  love  infuses. 
The  elegant  deportment  steadied  a  little,  the  articu- 
late gayety  balanced  more  evenly  in  his  presence. 

"Ah  !  '  he  said,  in  a  transport  of  happiness  as  he 
watched  these  growing  symptoms,  "am  I  indeed  her 
master,  and  can  I  give  her  rest?"  and  then  was  in 
a  whirl  of  alarm,  lest  the  next  day  or  the  next  might 
dispel  the  rosy  illusion  and  leave  him  a  handful  of 
ashes  instead  of  a  living  love. 


218  THE  OPAL 

He  had  wisely  pondered  the  whole  subject  in  the 
long  period  of  his  discipline  ;  for  more  than  a  year 
now  the  weary,  rushing  strain  had  been  endured, 
with  its  ebbs  and  its  flows,  audits  long,  long  sinking 
in  a  sea  so  deep — he  meant  to  submerge  it  forever. 
And  he  was  wisely  ready  to  seize  his  prize  when  he 
could  see  the  white  flag  of  surrender. 

That  it  was  possible  for  him  to  win  her  had  never 
been  admitted  to  doubt.  The  sunken  fortune  re- 
moved, there  could  be  no  barrier  to  his  suit,  if  there 
had  been  one — because  that  Elise  was  not  affected 
by  the  visible  sign  of  wealth  and  pageantry  was  as 
clear  as  the  noonday  sun  ;  that  she  leaned  not  one 
iota  from  the  perpendicular  of  independence  in  a 
cringing  servility  to  rank  and  so-called  aristocracy, 
was  equally  clear — she  was  as  likely  to  salute  with 
unqualified  sweetness  of  deportment  her  chimney- 
sweep, as  the  Professor,  Bridget  Flinn,  as  Her  Grace 
the  Countess  of  Stockbridge.  She  seemed  to  see 
none  of  those  subtle  distinctions  which  create  a 
Chinese  wall  around  the  contracted  dominions  of 
pigmy  upstarts  and  shoddy  Lilliputs. 

That  his  chances  for  her  favor  were  as  great  before 
her  reverses  as  now,  he  well  knew,  for  he  was  aware 
that  she  never  sought  fortune  in  a  lover — but  there 
might  be  a  shade  more  of  embarrassment  attending  a 
present  suitor,  as  failure  in  the  one  decision  would 
insure  more  caution  in  the  next. 

But  he  was  encouraged  when  he  made  the  quiet 
discovery,  that  she  would  never  wed  until  she  felt 
the  deep  responsive  "  Amen  "  in  her  heart,  and  he 
was  absorbed  in  the  all-engrossing  pursuit  of  awaken- 
ing it  by  mastering  its  vibrations.  There  should  be 
nothing  suggestive  of  a  bargain  or  compact — a  "  just 
because,  you  know,"  motive  was  all-sufficient  to 
account  for  this  sweet,  inevitable  happening  that 
comes  in  perfection  but  once  in  a  life-time. 


THE  SURPRISE.  219 


CHAPTER  XXIV\ 

THE  SURPRISE. 

UNDER  her  pall  of  sorrow,  Elise  was  glad  to  avail 
herself  of  the  relief  which  etiquette  afforded  of  escap- 
ing from  miscellaneous  visits  and  the  "madding 
crowd,"  and  the  connecting  dwellings  (with  visits  to 
Gain)  were  the  theatre  of  the  winter's  quiet  social  life. 

In  the  "palace  "  there  were  delightful  voluntaries 
from  Lilian,  who  skipped  through  La  Galerie  de  la 
Reine  at  all  hours,  "just  to  break  up  the  train  of 
morbid  action,"  she  said  ;  and  melodramatic  farces 
from  the  doctor,  with  impromptus  from  Channing  in 
both  houses. 

Elise  was  so  full  of  her  plans  and  projects,  which 
were  maturing  fairly  every  day,  that  their  talk  dur- 
ing Channing  a  visits  was  spiced  not  unfrequently 
with  business  hints  and  outlooks.  Now  and  then,  in 
the  long  winter  evenings,  he  would  bring  a  choice 
bit  of  reading  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  silent 
melody  of  her  embroidery-sphere,  as  she  sat  in  it 
enthroned.  Evenings  so  full  of  the  rich  lights  of 
their  fancy  on  the  strong  masonry  of  their  enlight- 
ened knowledge  were  fitly  framing,  and  silently,  mys- 
teriously— perhaps  unconsciously — enclosing  them, 
in  a  little  ideal  home  of  their  own.  To  Channing 
there  was  a  recognized  sense  of  a  reciprocal  joy — to 
Elise,  only  a  vague,  bewildering  dreaminess.  And 
so  with  only  a  qualified  security  in  his  coveted  situ- 
ation, he  was  yet  established  as  a  friend  than  whom 
none  was  more  welcome,  none  more  prized.  But, 


220  THE  OPAL  QIESN. 

when  a  passionate  impulse  would  urge  him  to  gain 
from  her  the  irrevocable  "yes,"  by  the  avowal  of  his 
love,  his  calmer  judgment  held  him  back. 

"  Not  yet!  Not  yet !  "  was  his  cautionary  protest. 
"The  guns  must  be  dismantled  and  i he  flag  Hying 
from  the  staff  in  a  breeze  from  heaven !  " 

But  it  was  a  delay  fraught  with  peril.  Masked 
foes  were  still  lurking  round  the  fort,  his  redoubtable 
enemy  priming  for  a  renewed  charge. 

With  the  situation  thus  nearly  mastered,  the  vic- 
tory almost  within  grasp,  judge  his  mingled  feel- 
ings of  chagrin,  despair,  and  horror  upon  seeing  Dres- 
son  one  evening  in  that  same  library,  in  the  very 
chair  that  was  his  by  the  right  of  constant  use,  by 
the  same  table,  under  the  same  lights — and  she  in  her 
embroidery-sphere  all  calm  and  peaceful!  If  a 
thunderbolt  had  struck  him — if  the  earth  had  opened 
at  his  feet,  the  shock  could  not  have  been  more  keen 
to  his  wrenched  soul. 

He  stood  a  moment  in  the  open  doorway,  partially 
concealed  by  the  portiere,  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  that 
it  was  not  an  optical  illusion,  and  that  his  dreaded 
rival  was  indeed  the  veritable  flesh-and-blood  Dresson. 

Elise  dropped  her  work  and  advanced  with  both 
hands  extended  to  meet  him. 

The  dismal  operation  of  exchanging  salutations 
was  concluded  between  the  two  rivals  with  tragic 
stiffness  and  brevity. 

Channing,  who  had  in  the  whole  course  of  this 
affair  "be'en  fitting  prudence  to  principle  with  won- 
derful skill  and  manliiress,"  was  struck  with  astonish- 
ment mingled  with  disdain  at  the  unparalleled  impu- 
dence of  this  intruder — the  scandalous  traitor  who 
had  involved  in  the  hardest  of  all  life's  tragedies 
the  woman  he  loved. 

He  remained  standing,  outraged  at  the  indecency 
of  the  transaction — with  kindling  eye  and  rigid  form, 
the  very  picture  of  calm,  indignant  protest  against 
cowardly  audacity  in  the  peu;on  of  Dresson. 

At  Elise's  renewed  invitation,  lie  took  a  chair,  but 


TILE  SURPRISE.  221 

almost  bounded  with  violence  to  his  feet  at  the  inner 
suggested  thought: 

"She  may  have  called  him  hither,  or  granted  him 
the  interview  in  accordance  with  his  expressed  wish  ! 
Perhaps  I  am  intruding — they  may  even  now  be 
discussing  the  practicability  of  a  renewed  engage- 
ment." 

Chami  ing's  high  views  of  honor  precluded  the  idea 
of  an  interview  on  any  grounds  lower  than  confession 
of  wrong  and  apology  for  it — the  possibility  of  an 
impromptu  social  call  or  visit  was  not  even  shadowed 
in  his  mind. 

He  to  whom  existence  now  would  be  a  long  de- 
spair unshared  by  Elise  could  easily  admit  as  a  fore- 
gone conclusion  that  Dresson  had  long  since  regretted 
the  rash  termination  of  the  formal  engagement — 
whose  sudden  finale  he  had  himself  courted  and  pre- 
cipitated— and  why  should  he  not  make  an  effort  to 
retake  the  prize?  Why  not?  he  repeated  in  a  daze. 
He  felt  paralyzed  with  the  thought,  for  somehow  the 
horrible  phantasm  that  had  overshadowed  him  so 
long,  in  the  face  of  this  presence  became  a  sudden 
and  terrible  reality.'  He  saw  it  now  as  it  had  been  ; 
and  since  he  had  himself  secured  no  exclusive  right 
of  entrance  here,  why  should  there  not  be  another 
bold  stroke  on  the  part  of  this  quondam  suitor  that 
would  insure  a  victory  right  before  his  hoping  eyes 
and  outstretched  hand  ?  Why  not?  He  was  hot  and 
he  was  cold.  He  asked  himself  why  he  did  not  go — 
quit  the  scene  forever,  and  meddle  no  more  with  the 
beautiful  but  frail  and  fickle  bits  of  mortality  labelled 
the  fair  sex. 

The  stroke  had  fallen  first  on  himself.  He  sat 
with  averted  face  and  downcast  eye,  the  victim  of 
this  swirl  of  tempestuous  upheavals  of  forebodings 
and  reproaches,  thinking  only  of  himself  ;  but  as  the 
hot  breath  of  the  sirocco  swept  by  him  for  an  instant, 
he  glanced  at  Elise.  Had  she  no  such  thoughts,  no 
implacable  feelings  of  resentment?  What  she  had, 
she  was  magnanimously  suppressing.  He  looked 


222  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

again,  and  perceived  a  certain  timidity  gracefully  held 
in  check,  and  a  quietly  alert  look,  which  had  also  a 
"certain  victorious  character  in  it  as  of  a  long  post- 
poned triumph  "  that  took  off  the  edge  of  his  bitter- 
ness and  challenged  him  to  a  division  of  the  misery. 
It  pained  while  it  comforted  him,  but  he  suppressed 
his  rapidly  forming  battalions  of  inaudible  invective, 
and  was  no  longer  exclusively  engrossed  in  him- 
self. 

Bresson's  monologue,  only  interrupted  by  the  short 
and  formal  episode  of  greeting,  was  steadily  flowing 
on,  while  Channing  was  silently  taking  these  obser- 
vations, and  a  glance  now  from  Elise  as  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his,  in  an  abandon  of  simple,  loyal  trust, 
disarmed  the  critical  censures  on  his  lips  for  utter- 
ance, gave  him  an  assurance  of  an  unmixed  confidence, 
and  pointed  an  example  for  his  following.  If  she  could 
so  gloriously  efface  herself  and  distinguish  her  visi- 
tor with  heroically  courteous,  even  amiable,  treatment, 
could  not  he  assist  in  the  little  drama?  She  who 
"  rallied  so  easily  and  veiled  her  miseries  always,"  she, 
his  heart's  idol,  should  not  be  unchampioned  in  the 
pitif  nl  struggle  of  speech  with  a  treacherous  lover. 

His  contribution  to  the  various  talk  on  indifferent 
matters  was  choice  but  sparing. 

"  There's  no  place  like  this,  you'll  find,  in  our  coun- 
try, in  the  early  spring,"  Dresson  was  saying 
smoothly.  "  I  barely  tolerated  life  with  those  beastly 
March  winds  flying  from  the  caves  of  all  the  winds 
in  the  dominions  of  Eolus,  don't  you  know.  Now 
here  I  dare  say  3^011  had  it  quite  charming  ;  it's  really 
remarkable  when  you  look  at  it,  now  isn't  it?" 

"Find  me  a  place  untouched  by  unfriendly  March 
winds,  and  I'll  find  you  heaven — or  some  place  out- 
side this  sphere,"  said  Channing,  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  Why,  even  in  Rome,"  said  Elise,  "  the  winds 
sweep  terribly  sometimes,  and  if  you  happen  to  be 
on  the  Campagna — well,  you'd  wish  you  hadn't,  that's 
all,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  They  play  at  hide-and-seek 
around  the  ruins  and  your  draperies  and  carriage- 


THE  SUMP  RISE.  223 

furnishings,  without  the  slightest  regard  to  the  pro- 
prieties or  the  reputation  of  the  city  fur  aesthetic 
elegance  par  excellence" 

"  I  gathered  some  clerodendron  for  you  to-day,  Miss 
Elise,"  Channing  remarked  after  a  slight,  unvo- 
calized  pause,  "  but  stupidly  forgot  to  bring  it.  You 
shall  have  it  by  the  first  post  in  the  morning." 

Elise  thought  she  should  sink  into  the  ground  or 
faint  away.  Only  a  year  ago  the  sweet  petals  were 
all  fragrant  with  what  she  fancied  an  undying  love, 
and  here  sat  the  perjured  giver — the  love  all  abjured 
now  and  dead — had  he  come  to  its  burial,  this  airy 
deceiver  who  had  lightly  broken  every  vow? 

She  paused  so  long  that  the  gently  intoned 
"  thanks  "  were  scarcely  heard,  as,  with  head  bent 
low,  she  kept  up  the  little  fiction  of  industry. 

"  Your  Festival  is  to  come  off  soon,  I  hear,"  said 
Dresson. 

"  Next  week,"  replied  Channing,  curtly. 

"  My  cousin  wrote  me  that  the  various  costumes  of 
Artemis  were  to  be  represented,  and  I  thought  it  quite 
worth  while  to  take  a  run  down  here  and  see  how 
you  handle  it.  ^Esthetic  affair,  no  doubt,"  lie  said, 
rising,  "  with  its  pictorial  character  and  the  pictur- 
esque sceifrery  of  grotto  and  glen.  I  understand  it  is 
to  be  here  ?  '1  he  said,  with  a  rising  inflection  of  in- 
quiry, turning  to  Elise. 

"  So  the  Fairies  have  kindly  decreed,  Mr.  Dresson," 
said  Elise,  with  her  old  composure.  k'  The  girls  have 
taken  it  in  hand,  and  the  Opal  League  knows  no 
such  word  as  fail,"  she  continued,  with  a  subdued 
triumph  in  her  voice  and  air. 

"  Ha!  "  he  exclaimed,  "I  heard  about  that.  Quite 
clever  in  them,  now,  to  think  of  it,  don't  you  know." 

"  Will  you  join  our  festivities,  Mr.  Dresson  ?  Since 
we  are  only  fictitious  Greeks,  we  may  invite  our  little 
barbarians,"  she  added,  playfully. 

"  A  random  shot  with  a  poisoned  arrow,"  thought 
Channing,  "if  his  superabundant  conceit  would  only 
permit  him  to  see  it." 


224  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

Chunning  was  distracted  between  doubt  and 
longing. 

"Not  now  !  "  he  said  again  to  himself,  when  urged 
by  the  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  settle  his  fate. 
"  Not  now  !  when  she  has  been  so  wrought  upon 
with  the  strain  of  this  interview."  And  as  she  gave 
him  no  hint  of  the  meaning  of  this  visit,  said  no 
word  of  the  visitor,  he  interpreted  her  reticence  un- 
favorably to  himself  But  he  forgot  that  this  had 
always  been  a  forbidden  ground  by  tacit  consent,  and 
that  it  would  cost  her  much,  to-night  of  all  times,  to 
step  over  the  border. 

Ah!  could  he  but  have  known  the  quickened 
throbbings  of  the  heart  waiting  for  the  rest  after  the 
struggle,  he  would  have  put  out  strong  arms  to  stay 
its  trembling. 

He  waited  and  was  constrained  and  distant. 

Elise  was  nervously  polite,  daintily  sweet,  but  she 
gave  him  no  hint  of  her  feelings,  and  he  went  away 
perplexed,  mystified,  and  out  of  sorts. 

That  night  Elise  thought :  "  There  is  nothing  in  it. 
If  ever  man  loved  a  woman,  he  would  tell  her  so 
when  she  was  so  hunted  and  persecuted.  I'll  rise 
above  the  whole  thing.  He  had  a  chance  to  take  me 
fairly  and  he  squandered  it !  " 

"Well,  it  is  all  right,"  she  said,  defensively,  "he 
is  too  young.  If  it  should  come  to  the  point,  I  should 
have  to  refuse  him  on  that  very  ground. 'r 

In  the  home  of  Elise's  childhood,  there  was  a 
married  couple  who  were  a  by-word  and  a  reproach, 
on  account  of  their  private  and  public  bickerings. 
Their  life  was  a  travesty  upon  matrimony  patent  to 
all  the  village.  As  Elise  grew,  the  childish  impres- 
sion strengthened,  that  the  cause  of  their  unhappiness 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  woman  had  the  advan- 
tage in  years.  It  was  a  strange  freak  of  her  well- 
balanced  mind,  that  she  should  accept  this  youthful 
decision  as  infallible,  without  appealing  to  the  courts 
of  reason.  Hence  she  was  filled  with  a  determination, 
amounting  almost  to  a  mania,  never  to  be  the  senior 


THE  SURPRISE.  225 

in  years,  even, by  so  much  as  a  mon.th,  when  she  mar- 
ried. 

This  picture  now  confronted  her,  and  tormented 
her  with  the  memory  of  previous  resolutions.  Her 
refined  instincts  and  those  keen  perceptions  which 
are  an  unfailing  guide  in  a  true  woman's  heart  told 
her  that  at  last  she  had  found  her  ideal,  and  she 
sighed  when  she  knew  that  it  could  never  be  hers. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  she  thought.  "  This  has  all  been  so 
spontaneous  that  I  haven't  been  thinking  about  the 
if s  and  but's  and  maybe's — but  now  I  must — let  me 
see." 

"  May  it  not  have  been  the  same  with  that  couple," 
she  asked  herself,  "if  the  years  had  been  reversed? 
Are  there,  then,  no  unhappy  marriages,  no  signs  of 
incompatibility,  where  the  ratio  is  at  the  regulation 
figure?" 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know  !  How  my  head  aches  !  "  she 
said,  pressing  her  hands  upon  her  forehead. 

Still  the  sweet  possibility  would  return  again  and 
again. 

"  I'm  glad  I  didn't  let  myself  love  him  as  much  as 
I  wanted  to;  there's  nothing  like  holding  the  fort ! " 
But  she  threw  herself  upon  the  sofa  in  a  kind  of 
desperation. 

Half  reclining,  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  lay 
dreamily  watching  the  rising  glare  of  the  flickering 
inner  lights.  A  forgotten  picture  arose  in  the  still- 
ness. She  was  in  the  enchanting  vale  of  Rousely, 
that  classic  nook  holding  two  of  England's  crowning 
treasure-houses — Chatsworlh  House  and  Haddon 
Hall.  She  Avas  walking  with  a  friend  through  the 
streets  of  the  secluded  village,  pleased  Avith  the  neatly 
thatched  cottages  and  their  trim  gardens  of  flowers. 
She  remembered  her  visit  to  one  of  these  cottages, 
through  the  introduction  of  what  was  to  her  a  novel 
sight — a  warming-pan — which  they  descried  on  the 
wall  as  they  were  passing  the  open  door.  She  remem- 
bered well  the  tableaux  presented  as  they  entered :  the 
uncovered  stone  floor,  the  scrupulous  cleanliness,  the 


226  THE.  OPAL  QUEEN. 

deaf  old  woman's. sweet,  chastened  face  and  manner, 
as  she  ironed  at  her  board,  or  stooped  to  lift  from  the 
oven  the  rich  brown  loaves — the  man's  wan  and  pa- 
tient look  as  he  lay  upon  the  couch  of  suffering,  and 
her  companion's  remark  :  "  Is  this  your  wife  ? — she 
looks  much  older  than  you."  Then  she  remembered, 
too,  the  pathetic  reply  as  he  looked  fondly,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  at  the  bent  figure  plying  the  iron,  and 
the  tender  smile  as  he  said : 

"  She's  been  a  glide  wife  to  me — a  very  gude  wife 
to  me." 

And  the  repetition  sounded  like  the  refrain  of  some 
sweet  melody  to  Elise,  who  thought  dreamily  :  "  He 
might  have  the  sciatica,  and  that  would  be  lovely,  for 
I  could  help  and  comfort  him  !  But  he  has  been  so 
— is,  so  very  deliberate — can  he  truly  love  me  ? 
But  perhaps  it  is  this  very  problem  he  is  studying 
over." 

"  Marriage  is  an  apotheosis,"  she  mused,  "  beauti- 
ful in  its  processes  if  you  begin  in  the  twenties.  I 
am  not  in  the  thirties,  to  be  sure,  but  not  so  very  far 
off.  I  am  afraid  it  will  never  do.  Could  he  endure  to 
see  me  after  a  while  in  caps  and  spectacles?  To 
be  sure,  old  ladies  don't  wear  caps  now,  and  puffs 
would  not  be  so  bad— but  then  there  would  be  the 
crow's-feet,  and  the  wrinkles,  and — oh,  it  would  never 
do!  For  if  he  should  love  me  for  twenty  years,  and 
then  look  up  suddenly  some  morning  at  the  break- 
fast-table and  think,  '  How  old  and  faded  she  is ! ' 
and  be  sorry  that  he  ever  did  it,  I  should  never  get 
-over  it — never!  I  should  want  to  die  that  minute. 
Oh !  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  pressing  her  beating 
temples.  " But  I  must  know!  Yes,  I  think  I  must 
settle  it  for  both  of  us ;  "  and  she  felt  as  though  she 
had  dropped  into  a  great,  cold,  empty  gulf. 

"And  perhaps  after  all — men  are  so  variable- 
he  isn't  intending  to  ask  me,"  she  mused  in  the 
shivering  vacuum,  and  rose  through  her  pride  about 
a  foot  from  the  bottom.  "  Well,  let  it  go.  It's  all 
the  result  of  my  vivid  imagination!  (rising  still 


THE  SURPRISE.  227 

higher).  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi!  And  this  is — 
yes,  it  is  April !  So  be  it.  Drop  the  curtain.  Put 
out  the  lights  !  Write  finis  at  the  end  of  this  chapter, 
for  the  book  is  closed.  The  next  will  be  the  autobi- 
ography of  the  charming  old  maid,  Elise  Archer  !  " 

It  seemed  long  to  Bertha,  who  sat  waiting  up- 
stairs and  wondering  what  detained  her  mistress, 
since  the  last  footstep  had  crossed  the  outer  threshold, 
and  she  at  last  decided  to  steal  quietly  down  and  un- 
ravel the  mystery. 

Elise's  arms,  bare  to  her  elbow,  the  rich  drapery 
floating  from  them,  were  clasped  above  her  shining 
head  as  she  lay  there,  pale  and  motionless.  Struck 
by  the  unusual  pallor,  Bertha  softly  drew  nearer. 
Kneeling  down  by  the  side  of  the  dreamer,  she 
marked  her  quick,  heavy  breathing,  but  was  un- 
certain what  to  do. 

"But,  somehow,  I  can't  help  thinking  it  is  sad  so 
very  sad  !  "  (and  dropped  again  to  the  bottom  of 
the  gulf),  Elise  was  saying  at  this  moment,  and 
her  lips  moved,  but  Bertha  caught  no  sound.  "  And 
it  is  also — April !  "  she  still  mused.  "  Well,  I  must 
make  the  best  of  it !  " 

And  sighing  deeply,  she  opened  her  eyes,  and 
fixed  them  upon  Bertha,  still  without  moving  and 
without  surprise  at  her  presence. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  might  be  sick,  my  lady,  and  so 
I  came  to  see,  and  to  tell  you  it  is  very  late.  I 
am  afraid  I  disturbed  your  sleeping." 

"  I  was  not  asleep,  Bertha.  I  was — was  (rising  to 
her  feet)  only  sky-sweeping,  Bertha." 

Bertha  missed  the  accustomed  lightness  of  tone 
and  manner,  and  wondered  what  fresh  specks  had 
come  over  her  mistress's  sky,  that  she  was  so  intent 
on  brushing  away. 


228  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
CHANNING'S  FORTUNE. 

"  She  listened  with  a  flitting  blush, 
With  downcast  eyes  and  modest  grace, 
And  she  forgave  me  that  I  gazed 
Too  fondly  on  her  face." 

Coleridge. 

CHANNING  was  late  to  breakfast  the  next  morn- 
ing. Superba  generously  indulged  him  in  morning 
naps,  declaring  that  owls  must  get  a  sound  sleep 
Borne  time  or  they'd  be  blinking  all  day.  This  bird 
was  her  favorite  symbol  for  Charming — when  she 
descended  to  earth  for  comparisons — whose  wisdom 
was  her  hourly  pride  ;  and  when  with  garrulous  fond- 
ness she  would  expatiate  on  this  theme,  with  Gran's 
approving  nods  and  smiles  as  an  accompaniment, 
Pater  would  declare  there  was  one  kind  of  wisdom 
that  he  hadn't  even  learnt  the  rudiments  of.  And 
when  they  would  each  time  look  at  him  with  a  dumb 
surprise,  he  would  enunciate,  deliberately  and  sagely, 
"  The  wisdom  of  moderation  !  " 

"There  seems  to  be  no  end  to  his  writing.  Last 
night  it  was  morning  several  hours  before  the  light 
was  out,"  asserted  the  watchful  Pater,  with  a  sub- 
lime disregard  of  the  accepted  canons  of  time. 

"  That's  the  way  to  grow  famous  !  "  chuckled  Su- 
perba, in  whose  mind  learning  was  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  midnight  oil. 

"  A  good  way  to  start  a  funeral,"  grunted  Pater. 
"  And  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  must  be  interviewed 
on  the  subject."  The  occasions  were  extremely  rare 
when  this  mild  remedy  was  even  proposed  for  the 
son's  deviation  from  Pater's  standard  of  rectitude. 


CHANNING' S  FORTUNE.  229 

"  Oil !  let  him  be,  dear,  it'll  all  come  out  right, 
you'll  see ! " 

Upon  this  assurance  from  one  of  the  "  saints," 
Pater  would  quietly  drop  into  calm  toleration  of  the 
inevitable,  and  the  "cherub"  would  pursue  his  un- 
biased way,  unadmonished. 

This  morning  the  post  had  brought  them  the  in- 
telligence of  Mr.  Earle's  brother's  death — a  bachelor 
with  a  handsome  fortune,  of  which  Channing  was 
sole  heir. 

They  were  sitting  still  at  various  distances  from 
the  partly  dismantled  board,  engaged  in  a  quiet  re- 
view of  the  solemn  circumstances,  when  Channing 
appeared. 

"Sad  news,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Earle,  "from  Anan- 
tou  !  " 

"Has  anything  happened  to  my  uncle?"  asked 
Channing  quickly,  still  standing,  consciously  affected 
by  the  mysterious  presence  of  the  unspoken  sorrow 
around  him. 

"  A  happening  that  comes  to  all,  my  child,"  said 
Gran,  "but  I  didn't  think  he  would  get  it  before 
these  old  bones." 

"  Ah !  so  soon  ?  "  replied  Channing,  with  visibly 
suppressed  emotion,  for  this  was  his  favorite  uncle, 
for  whom  he  was  named. 

When  the  first  pangs  of  natural  grief  had  sub- 
sided, Channing  was  conscious  that  this  bereavement 
— since  it  was  to  come — was  not  to  him  an  unmixed 
sorrow,  for  the  sweet  thought  would  intrude  that 
now  he  could  be  on  his  coveted  footing  for  a  pro- 
posal to  Miss  Archer.  He  beheld  the  dreary  years 
of  waiting  (if  she  should  be  propitious)  vanish  into 
the  distant  background,  forever  hidden  from  sight, 
and  himself  in  the  sunlighted  foreground  crowned 
with  a  glorious  hope. 

"  So  that's  the  result  of  the  conspiracy  the  fair 
marplots  have  been  hatching  in  aesthetic  boudoirs!" 
exclaimed  Channing,  as  Elise  held  up  before  him  the 
Greek  costume  the  Opal  League  had  finished  for 
her. 


230  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  That  is,  one  of  them,"  she  replied. 

"  The  strategy  and  finesse  of  women  when  they 
undertake  a  season's  campaign  of  pleasure  would  be 
beyond  credence,"  he  observed,  "  if  it  wasn't  so  com- 
mon. What  shall  I  say  about  it?  "he  continued, 
as  she  still  stood  as  though  she  was  expecting  more 
admiration  and  enthusiasm. 

"I  am  sure  it's  the  correct  thing  (and  he  smiled 
as  he  thought  of  Dresson),  also  very  recherch£,  very 
distingue,  is  it  not  ? — probably  also  very  becoming 
— but  that  we  can  tell  later  on." 

"  It  is  everything  lovely  !  "  Elise  admitted,  with  an 
accent  of  affection. 

"  There  are  eight  of  them,  and  each  one  has  left 
her  indelible  picture  right  here,"  she  added,  reflec- 
tively, passing  her  hands  in  graceful  movement  over 
the  dress. 

"  The  dear  fingers  plying  the  skillful  needle  for  me, 
isn't  it  sweet?  Why,  this  suit  is  a  rich  treasury  of 
love.  When  I  shook  out  the  folds — they  sent  it  in 
a  beautiful  box,  all  ribboned  as  nicely  as  if  it  had 
came  from  Worth's — I  felt  for  the  instant  very  much 
as  David  did,  I  do  believe,  when  he  wouldn't  drink 
the  water  his  chieftains  brought,  got  at  the  hazard  of 
their  lives,  from  the  dear  old  well  of  his  childhood. 
It  was  too  precious,  too  much  a  part  of  their  sweet 
lives,  with  the  fragrant  sympathy  breathing  all  through 
it,  for  common  use.  It  was  consecrated  by  their  de- 
votion, and  I  just  felt  like  hanging  it  up,  and  looking 
at  it  for  a  souvenir  and  a  talisman— do  you  under- 
stand ?"  she  asked,  looking  jip  at  him.  He  nodded, 
and  she  went  on  :  "  Do  you  wonder  that  every  little 
daisy  is  a  love  message,  and  every  lily-bell  holds  the 
gold  of  true  affection  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  monopolize  you,  Miss  Archer,  on  the 
day  you  christen  it,"  he  said,  after  having  engaged 
her  for  the  Festival — "  I  give  3rou  fair  warning." 

Elise  laughed.  "  Have  you  taken  out  a  patent?  " 
she  inquired,  archly. 

"  I  am  about  to  file  my  petition,"  he  replied,  with  a 


CHANNING' S  FORTUNE.  231 

delicious  gravity,  "  before  the  proper  court,  on  or 
before  that  day — I  am  at  work  o-n  my  papers  now." 

When  Channing  looked  at  her  just  that  way,  with 
a  deep,  tender  gaze,  Elise  never  knew  quite  what  to 
think  or  say..  It  seemed  to  jostle  her  mental  equi- 
librium, oppress  her,  too,  with  the  uncomfortable  sense 
that  lie  inwardily  enjoyed  her  confusion  and  even 
sought  to  produce  it. 

"  Can  I  assist  you  ?  "  she  said  playfully,  and  im- 
mediately knew  that  it  was  a  very  foolish  speech,  and 
would  gladly  have  fled  from  the  room.  Her  heart 
was  beating,  her  color  was  rising  in  great  surges  from 
neck  to  brow.  She  could  not  bear  the  intensity  of 
that  gaze— it  was  charming  her — she  would  break 
away  from  it. 

"Excuse  me, "she  said  hastily,  turning  to  the  door, 
"  wasn't  that  Bertha  calling  me  ?  " 

But  he  gently  arrested  her.  "  I  am  calling  you 
now,  Miss  Elise.  Will  you  listen  to  me  ?  " 

He  resumed  his  seat,  and  placed  a  low  chair  for  her 
opposite  his  own. 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  an  inquiring  smile,  and 
he  said  : 

"  And  first,  as  preliminary,  am  I  to  understand  that 
I  have  a  rival  in  Dresson  ?  " 

Elise  instantly  felt  that  he  had  no  right  to  such 
inquiry  without  first  apprising  her  of  his  own  inten- 
tions— and  then  as  confidently  recognized  it  as  a  tacit 
avowal  of  his  position.  It  was  hard  to  push  her  so 
close  on  so  sore  a  theme,  and  Channing,  anxious  to 
save  himself  the  mortification  of  defeat,  had  committed 
the  blunder  of  apparent  encroachment  upon  her 
secrets. 

It  was  direct,  it  was  blunt,  it  was  also  crucial  in 
his  view  of  the  case.  It  was  a  sudden  descent  from 
bewildering  hope  to  flat  negations,  but  she  could  not 
resent  it,  with  those  pleading  eyes  still  fixed  upon  her 
and  the  rich  full  tone  that  could  not'conceal  its  inner 
meaning  lingering  in  her  ear. 


232  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

It  was  but  a  second  that  she  paused,  but  to  Chan- 
ning  it  seemed  an  eternity. 

"In  failure?"  she  asked,  with  a  nervous  sweet- 
ness. "  I  know  him  in  no  other  role."" 

But  Channing  did  not  speak. 

"  I  never  intend  to  know  him  in  any  other,"  she 
continued,  with  a  mild  but  lofty  decision. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  inspiring  a  deep  breath.  He 
folded  his  arms  and  turned  fully  around,  confronting 
her  with  an  unflinching  gaze. 

"I  have  been  addressing  a  certain  Miss  Archer  for 
some  months  now,"  he  said  meditatively.  "  1  wish  to 
ask  her  if  she  is  willing  to  be  my  wife." 

He  spoke  witli  measured  emphasis,  every  word 
clear  cut,  firm,  vigorous,  palpitating  in  what  seemed 
an  ocean  of  space. 

At  first  Elise  had  not  quailed  under  the  steady  blaze 
of  those  orbs  that  seemed  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of 
her  soul ;  but  at  length,  bewildered  by  their  depth 
and  power,  she  slowly  turned  her  head,  her  eyes  away 
— a  sudden  paleness  swept  over  her  face.  She  wasiji 
a  tumult  of  emotion.  A  master-hand  had  touched 
the  chords  at  last,  and  she  was  all  a-throb  with  the 
music's  deep  vibrations.  But  she  could  not  speak  ; 
she  was  distracted  too,  by  the  faint  low  rumblings  of 
the  hollow  tones  of  doubt  in  a  deep  undertone. 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  I  love  you  ?  "  he  urged 
fondly.  "Will  you  not  look  at  me?  Will  you  not 
speak  one  word  of  encouragement?" 

She  knew  it  all  now — she  felt  it  all  now  !  Knew 
it  as  in  a  dream — felt  it  as  in  a  spell.  His  low, 
pleading  fervor  sank  into  her  very  soul ;  a  delicious 
thrill  ran  through  her  frame.  She  felt  the  magnetism 
of  that  riveted  gaze,  the  magic  of  that  heartfelt 
utterance,  the  pathos  of  that  sweet  appeal.  Her 
gentle  spirit  swayed  like  a  struck  pendulum ;  an  all- 
compelling  love  was  subduing  her,  was  absorbing 
her. 

But  what  could  she  do?  Had  she  not  resolved? 
Should  the  struggle  of  years  go  for  naught  ? 


CHAN N ING'S  FORTUNE.  233 

While  all  this  was  rushing  through  her  brain,  she 
heard  Channing's  voice  once  more,  for  her  eyes  were 
cast  down,  she  could  neither  answer  nor  receive  that 
maddening  gaze. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  said,  rising,  "  I  see  that  you  think  my 
wish  presumptuous  !  "  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
moonlight-flooded  balcony.  He  stepped  mechani- 
cally forward  outside  the  open  door. 

Elise  irresistibly  followed,  filled  with  a  strange 
unrest.  She  must  answer  him.  Was  he  offended  ? 
He  had  honored  her  above  all  women.  Did  he  not 
understand  that  she  prized  the  gift  even  it'  she  could 
not  accept  the  giver?  These  were  her  perplexities 
as  they  stood  in  the  moonlight  together.  But  she 
must  answer  him.  Every  moment's  delay  was  a 
sharp  torture. 

She  laid  her  hand  gently  on  his  arm,  for  he  was 
looking  outward,  apparently  without  a  thought  of  the 
fair  being  beside  him. 

"  Mr.  Eaiie,"  she  said,  with  touching  gentleness, 
"it  is  my  misfortune  rather  than  my  fault  that  com- 
pels me  to  refuse  "—she  caught  her  breath  quickly— 
"to  grant  your  wish.  I  think  my  meaning  is  not 
unknown  to  you  ?  "  she  pleaded,  inquiringly. 

"  But  shall  a  few  years  more  or  less  separate  loving 
hearts?  Oh!  cannot  you  see  that  if  the  delicate 
fibers  of  the  spirit  intertwine,  there  is  life  and  peace  ? 
Can  yon  not  understand  that  love  is  a  passion  of  the 
soul — a  thing  of  affinities  and  not  of  definitions  or 
mathematics?  Only  say,"  he  added  tenderly,  "that 
you  love  me,  and  I  think  I  can  convince  you  that 
your  theory  is  wrong." 

"  You  know  I  have  made  one  mistake,"  she  said 
sadly.  Then  observing  Channing's  pained,  puzzled 
look,  she  said,  with  grave  simplicity  : 

"  Love  is  not  a  thing  of  mathematics,  it  is  true, 
but  ,love  enjoys  the  proper  results  of  the  rules  of 
proportion,  does  he  not?  Love  is  not  a  thing  of  defini- 
tions, I  acknowledge,  and  yet  Love's  vocabulary  is 


234  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

full  of  'ardor,'  'fire,'  '  zeal,'  'enthusiasm,'  all  choice 
passions  of  youth,  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

Charming  did  not  reply. 

"  Mr.  Earle,"  she  said,  '•  I  am  not  ready  to  say 
what  it  would  no  doubt  please  you  to  hear,  but  I  am 
willing  to  say  this " 

She  touched  his  arm  to  recall  his  attention  to  her- 
self, for  he  was  abstractedly  gazing  at  the  moon- 
lighted shrubbery. 

"  My  thought  is  all  for  you ;  it  is  for  you  that  I 
fear ! " 

While  she  spoke,  the  moonbeams  were  clothing  her 
as  with  a  garment.  Her  form  of  airy  grace  was 
almost  etherealized  by  her  snowy  drapery,  and  their 
weird  silver  light,  and  her  face,  bathed  in  their  full 
effulgence  as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  had  an  ineffa- 
ble charm  and  intensified  beauty  in  the  mingled  sad- 
ness and  serenity  which  marked  every  lineament, 
that  he  never,  never  forgot. 

Ho\v  the  fair  picture  haunted  him  in  one  short 
year ! 

"  And  was  this  last  utterance  a  grain  of  hope  ? — 
this  chance  bit  of  negation — and  did  she  mean  it 
so  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 

With  guarded  calmness  and  all  his  usual  studied 
politeness  he  said  : 

"  I  have  kept  you  too  long  standing,  Miss  Archer; 
permit  me  to  seat  you  and  shawl  you. 

"  There  now !  "  he  added,  placing  himself  by  her 
side,  "  let  us  talk  about  this  thing  sensibly.  I  would 
not  do  you  the  injustice,  Miss  Archer,  of  thinking 
you  unwilling  to  be  convinced,  and  if  you  will  allow 
me  the  privilege  of  trying,  I  hope  to.be  able  to  con- 
vert you  to  my  views.  And  I  have  strong  reasons 
for  believing  it  possible,"  he  added,  as  he  so  beheld 
the  rising  doubt  on  her  face,  "  because,"  he  hesitated 
for  the  statement  would  be  an  admission,  "because  I 
have  convinced  myself." 

"  You  think,  then,"  said  Elise,  quick  to  discover 
the  assailable  point,  "  that  yours  is  the  highest  court- 


CU 'ANN ING'S  FORTUNE.  235 

of-appeal,  and  the  case  having  been  decided  in  it,  all 
under-courts  must  yield  to  its  authority. 

"But  without  jesting,"  for  she  saw  Channing 
looked  pained,  "  I  will  certainly  grant  you  both  the 
privilege  and  the  opportunity — is  it  too  late  to-night?" 
she  said,  glancing  at  the  stars — "and  -I  Avill  not  be 
at  all  displeased,"  she  added,  archly,  "  to  be  con- 
verted to  your  views,  provided  you  do  not  use  any 
unlawful  means  such  as  sorcery,  magnetism,  not 
even  poetry,"she  said,  smiling,  "  for  that  captivates  the 
senses  you  know — but  only  pure,  sound  argument." 

"  Very,  well,"  he  said,  "  I  am  to  have  the  floor, 
remember  — 

"  And  I  am  to  be  both  judge  and  jury,"  Elise 
interrupted. 

"  Correct,"  said  Channing,  "  and  also  the  counsel 
for  the  defendant — multum  in parvo,  truly!  Behold 
my  chivalry  !  But  in  spite  of  all  fourteen  of  you,  I 
expect  to  win  my  case." 

Elise  laughed  at  this  sally,  and  assured  him  that  a 
determination  to  win  was  more  than  half  the  battle. 

"But  I  warn  you,"  she  said,  gayly,  "that  we  are 
fourteen  very — what  shall  I  say  ? — not  obstinate 
individuals,  but  a  consolidated  firm  of  firmness,  as  it 
were." 

"  But  now,  seriously,  Miss  Archer,  it  is  my  opinion 
that  true  love  is  not  affected  by  age." 

"  I  have  been  accustomed  to  think  of  Love  as  some- 
thing so  much  divine  as  to  be  perfect  from  the  begin- 
ning of  its  existence,"  she  remarked. 

"  Genuine  love  may  be  perfect  in  kind,  but  not  in 
degree.  What  passes  for  love-at-first-sight  is  often 
only  fascination. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  continued  meditatively, "  I  ought  to 
give  you  some  examples  of  happy  married  life  where 
there  was  this  disparity  of  years  which  is  to  you  such 
a  bugbear.  There  is  no  proof  better  than  experience. 
History  furnishes  many.  In  private  life  you  may 
have  known  some  instances  — 

Elise  gave  a  little  start,  and  began  to  say  that  un- 


236  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

fortunately  she  knew  one  unhappy  case,  when  Chan- 
ning  waved  her  into  silence,  saying  : 

"  I  see  I  must  protect  my  own  rights,  for  even  the 
judge  has  no  call  to  speak  at  present,  and  certainly 
not  the  prisoner  or  the  opposing  counsel. 

"  Of  course,"  he  continued,"  there  are  marriages  that 
will  stand  for  types  of  the  rest.  I  happen  to  know 
one,  and — well,  their  fireside  happiness  is  the  real, 
genuine  stuff — just  what  ours  would  be,  I 'imagine," 
lie  added,  tenderly,  "  for  are  not  our  opinions,  tastes, 
desires  and  aims,  in  the  main,  the  same  ?  And  not 
only  so,  is  there  not,  in  our  case,  unity  of  purpose  in 
things  spiritual  and  divine?  Is  it  possible  to  lay 
firmer  foundation  than  this  for  true,  deep,  all-abiding 
love?" 

He -spoke  with  the  fervid  eloquence  of  feeling,  and 
paused  from  its  very  intensity. 

''If  we  were  only  angels  " — Elise  breathed  so  low 
that  it  was  scarcely  audible — "  but— 

"  Oh !  Elise  !  let  us  have  no  more  buts-f  This  sense- 
less doubting  maddens  me,"  and  he  rose  in  a  sort 
of  frenzy.  "  Have  you  not  reason  ?  Is  it  not  clear 
to  your  comprehension?  Cannot —  But  pardon  me, 
I  have  been  rude.  What  would  you  say,  Miss  Archer  ?  " 

Elise's  color  rose  at  this  little  whiff  of  authority, 
but  since  it  was  the  impatience  of  love,  she  could  not 
resent  it,  and  so  as  they  paced  the  balcony  floor,  she 
replied,  doubtfully,  naively  waiving  the  but : 

"  Man's  love  is  not  considered  as  lasting  as  woman's, 
I  think." 

"It  is  all  a  base  slander,"  he  replied.  "Love  is 
divine  and  knows  no  sex.  A  true  man's  love  for  his 
wife,  a  true  man's  love  for  his  child,  granting  even 
the  exalted  character  of  a  mother's  love,  is  as  deep, 
pure,  and  eternal  as  a  woman's.  If  a  man  set 
his  heart  on  beauty,  a  fair  form,  fine  features,  rich 
dress,  and  stylish  belongings,  he  must  expect  to 
be  disappointed.  If  a  man  allows  the  blandish- 
ments of  the  fair  sex  to  ensnare  him,  lie  must  ex- 
pect disappointment.  Or  if  a  man  thinks  only  of 


CHANN ING'S  FORTUNE.  237 

getting  money  or  position  or  social  influence  or 
business  prosperity  with  a  wife,  he  is  sure  to  be  dis- 
appointed. If  he  build  upon  anything— -and  the 
motives  are  legion  that  induce  men  to  marry — but 
heart  attractions,  mental  worth,  and  moral  graces,  he 
must  obviously  have  a  short-lived  love.  Why,  he 
builds  upon  the  shifting  sands.  How  can  he  expect 
permanence  ?  I  find  no  mixed  motive  in  my  love  for 
you  ;  it  is  clear,  sharp,  well  defined." 

"  Mr.  Eaiie,"  said  Elise,  looking  upon  the  floor  as 
they  slowly  paced  along,  "  I  believe  I  am  convinced — 
any  way,  almost"  She  looked  up  at  him  and  seemed 
about  to  speak,  but  paused. 

"  Another  dreadful  but,  I  see  !  "  Channing  said, 
kindly,  enjoying  her  confusion. 

Thus  reassured,  she  said,  timidly  : 

"Don't  you  think  the  world  will  disapprove — will 
laugh  at  us  ?  " 

Instinctively  perceiving  that  this  was  the  last 
arrow  from  the  quiver  of  the  defense,  Channing 
laughed  heartily  as  he  replied,  drawing  her  arm  more 
closely  within  his  own: 

"  Do  we  marry  the  world,  Elise  ?  Is  the  world  to 
feast  at  our  board  and  lounge  in  our  slippers  and  sit 
in  our  chimney-corner?  Is  it  the  world,"  he  added, 
tenderly,  "that  will  sit  beside  the  evening  lamp  with 
me  and  drone  over  Tennyson,  Keats,  and  Browning, 
or  flash  over  Hamilton  and  Cook?  The  world  has 
a  horny  bad  finger,  that  it  shakes  sometimes  in  the 
face  of  good  deeds,  but  if  we  care  to  view  our  own 
affairs  from  the  standpoint  of  the  world,  we  shall  in- 
volve ourselves  in  perpetual  entanglements — inextri- 
cable confusion.  It  is  possible  to  act  in  such  a  way 
as  to  compel  the  world's  approval.  This  .1  expect 
our  mutual  devotion  will  accomplish.  But  if  not, 
the  approval  of  conscience  and  the  smile  of  God 
ought  to  be  enough  for  any  well-regulated  mind." 

He  was  quietly  watching  for  the  white  flag  of  sur- 
render, but  seeing  no  signs  now,  he  cried  with  a 
sudden,  fierce  emphasis : 


238  fttE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  Oh,  Elise  !  }rour  reason  is  almost  upset  with  your 
ogres  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil !  " 

Elise,  startled,  withdrew  her  arm  and  stood  silently 
legiirding  him. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said,  "  for  my  rash  speech  ;  but 
really,"  he  added  with  warmth,  "  I  do  believe  all 
these  temptations  are  from  his  Satanic  majesty,  and 
the  sooner  you  say,  '  Get  thee  behind  me ! '  why, 
the  sooner" — he  was  opposite  her  now,  and  looking 
upon  her  face  with  a  piercing  tenderness — "you  will 
be  ready  to  come  to  your  rest,"  and  he  folded  his 
arms  upon  his  breast. 

"  But  after  all,  Elise,  we  do  not  need  argument  in 
such  a  case  as  this.  I  would  much  prefer  to  have 
the  answer  of  your  heart.  Let  your  heart  answer;  I 
will  abide  by  that  issue." 

If  there  had  been  sophistry  anywhere  in  his  plead- 
ings, Elise  was  in  such  a  sweet,  bewildering  dream  she 
found  it  impossible  to  discover  it — and  what  was 
more,  she  did  not  care  to  be  undeceived.  She  felt 
like  floating  away  on  this  delicious  sea  forever— she 
was  among  the  lotus  leaves,  and  the  subtle  odor 
penetrated  every  fibre  of  her  being. 

"  My  darling  !  "  said  Channing,  and  paused— for 
coming  towards  them,  pale  and  trembling,  was  Mrs. 
Healey  with  a  folded  paper  in  her  hands. 

Elise  sprang  towards  her :  "  What  has  happened, 
Lily?" 

Airs.  Healey  handed  her  the  telegram,  requesting 
the  Doctor's  immediate  presence  with  Mrs.  Healey 
and  Elise  on  account  of  the  sudden  and  alarming 
illness  of  Mr.  Gray,  Lilian's  brother. 

"  We  must  go  at  once,  Doctor  says,  Elise.  Can  I 
help  you  in  the  packing?" 

"  My  dear  uncle,"  was  all  Elise  could  say,  winding 
her  arms  about  Mrs.  Healey.  Then,  extending  her 
hand  to  Channing  for  a  good-night's  token,  they 
entered  the  house  together. 

Elise  and  Mrs.  Healey  were  busy  together  until 
long  after  midnight,  and  when  at  last  her  thoughts 


CUAXNIN&S  FORTUN&.  239 

turned  to  Charming,  she  remembered  that  she  had 
given  him  no  definite  answer.  So  she  reopened  her 
trunk  and  withdrew  her  escritoire.  She  arranged  her 
materials,  she  inked  her  pen,  she  thought,  she  waited 
— she  could  not  begin. 

But  at  last,  after  manifold  hesitations  and  multifari- 
ous condemned  scribblings,  she  indited  the  following 
note  and  left  it  with  Bertha  for  delivery  : 

"I  am  sorry  to  leave  without  seeing  you  again, 
Mr.  Eaiie,  but  this  sudden  news  compels  us  to  fly  in 
the  early  morning. 

"  The  answer  from  my  heart,  dearest  of  friends, 
which  you  thought  you  would  like,  might  be  the 
cause  of  an  endless  misery  for  both  of  us — might  be 
at  the  expense  of  your  future  happiness.  I  would 
fain  plead  for  a  delay  of  my  decision,  until  the  love 
you  offer  me  has  been  tested  by  time  and  absence  and 
a  wider  acquaintance  with  the  charming  ones  of  my 
sex. 

"  Do  not  write  to  me.  But  if  after  all,  in  a  year, 
a  month  and  a  day,  your  heart  remains  unchanged, 
come  to  one  who  is  now  and  will  then  be  without 
reserve, 

"  Yours  only, 

"  ELISE." 


240  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

ELISE   RETURNS. 

"  Only  in  dreams  is  a  ladder  thrown 
From  the  weary  earth  to  the  sapphire  walls  ; 
But  the  dreams  depart  and  the  vision  falls 
And  the  sleeper  wakes  on  the  pillow  of  stone." 

J.  G.  Holland. 

MR.  GRAY'S  illness  proved  fatal,  and  thus  one  more 
link  in  the  chain  of  loving  helpfulness  was  dropped 
out  of  Elise's  life.  After  some  weeks  of  soothing 
ministries  to  her  stricken  aunt — weeks  precious  and 
hallowed  with  the  sweet  and  oft-spoken  memories 
of  the  dear  departed — Elise  returned  to  Brentville. 

Bertha  had  preceded  her,  and  the  Opal  League  was 
waiting  in  her  own  house  to  receive  her.  How  sweet 
it  was,  this  intertwining  of  arms  and  souls  in  a  wel- 
come whose  cordiality  was  gently  subdued  by  the 
mute,  eloquent  appeal  of  the  mourning  robes! 

"It  has  been  an  age  !  "  was  Minnie  Love's  original 
remark  as  she  nestled  close  to  her  Queen. 

"Say  a  millennium  and  include  us  all,"  said  Miss 
Smart.  Nothing  has  happened  here  worth  the  record  ; 
not  a  soul  of  us  has  dared  to  love  or  be  loved,  flirt  or 
be  flirted.  The  Monboddoes  have  given  us  up  for 
invincible  stupids,  and  gone  over  the  '  Border  '  for 
their  fun,  and  Florence  Burice  is  waiting  to  have  you 
sanction  the  beau  she  caught  in  Shoredam— 
which  rapidly  announced  budget  was  interrupted  by 
a  shyly  protesting : 

"  Now,  Ginnie  !  "  from  the  blonde  beauty. 

"  Mr.  Earle  went  to  Europe  soon  after  you  left — 
did  you  know  it,  Elise  ?  "  inquired  Miss  St.  John — 


ELISE  RETURNS.  241 

Elise  changed  color  and  replied  in  the  negative — 
"  and  has  been  traveling  in  Italy  and  Switzerland 
ever  since.  Then  perhaps  you  haven't  heard  he  is 
going  to  the  school  of  mines  in  Freiberg,  to  perfect 
himself  in  civil  engineering?  He  had  such  a  tingling 
in  his  bones  for  a  mathematical  career,  that  his  father 
consented  at  last  for  him  to  acquire  this  profession 
and  then  choose  between  the  two." 

"Authorship  or  civil  engineering,  do  you  mean, 
Marie?"  inquired  Elise. 

"Precisely.  I  imagine,"  she  said  in  a  confidential 
tone,  "that  it  cost  Mrs.  Earle  some  tears  just  to  con- 
sent to  the  mere  supposition  of  an  alternative,  for 
you  know  she  has  set  her  heart  upon  Channing's 
following  in  the  line  of  his  illustrious  ancestors." 

"  And  what  a  pity  it  would  be,"  said  Gene  vie  ve 
Tete,  "  to  have  a  break — why,  he  makes  the  fifth  in 
the  lineage  of  authors.  I  am  quite  sure  if  I  was  his 
mother  it  would  break  my  heart." 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Smart,  consolingly,  "  there'll  be 
no  breaks  of  any  kind;  according  to  my  notion.  Jn 
the  first  place,  he  has  a  talent  for  writing — that's 
everything.  And  in  the  next  place,  lie  has  acquired 
the  practice — that's  considerable.  And  in  the  third 
place " 

"Now  just  hold  on  a  bit,  can't  you?"  she  ex- 
claimed, as  they  uttered  protesting  cries  that  it  wasn't 
speech-day,  and  somebody  else  wanted  to  talk,  and 
other  pretty  little  aggravations. 

"  I  haven't  come  to  sixthly  yet !  What  a  mercurial 
audience  I  have,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"  In  the  third  place,"  she  continued,  "  lie  has  a 
fortune  now,  and  I  don't  blame  him  for  wishing  to 
be  sure  that  his  career  is  in  the  line  of  his  tastes,  for 
he  can  try  both  and  take  his  choice.  I  think  he  is 
very  wise." 

"Why,  when,"  said  Elise,  "did  the  wheel  of 
Fortune  empty  something  into  his  lap  ?  I  hadn't  heard 
it.  That's  good  news,  I  am  sure." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Miss  Bunce,  "  his  uncle  died  and 


242  THE  OPAL  QVEEN. 

left  him  fifty  thousand  and  the  old  homestead,  and 
Gran  says  that  if  they  are  willing  and  the  Lord  is 
willing,  she'd  like  to  die  in  the  house  where  she  was 
born,  so  they  are  going  as  soon  as  they  can.  Mr. 
Earle  is  up  there  now  putting  the  house  in  order — 
it's  a  grand  old  mansion — been  remodelled  several 
times." 

"Why!  why!"  said  Elise,  "I  hadn't  heard,  I 
didn't  know  it,"  in  a  confused  sort  of  way.  "  And 
will  they  leave  here  altogether  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  quite  decided,  but  they  want  to  go  for 
Gran's  sake  now.  Mrs.  Earle  says  she  hasn't  any  one 
to- indulge  now  but  Gran,  and  she'll  make  a  chocolate- 
e*claire  of  her,  and  the  sweets  will  be  laid  on  thick, 
you  may  be  sure,"  replied  Ginnie. 

"You  see,  Elise,  the  reason  Florence  knows  so 
much  about  all  this  is  because  Mr. — ahem !  well, 
Mr. — Waiting-her-Mood,  you  know  (looking  at 
Florence  quizzically),  has  been  visiting  there  and 
kept  her  posted." 

"  Is  it  true  ?  "  inquired  Elise,  fondly  stroking  the 
blonde  hair. 

Her  tell-tale  blush,  as  she  turned  her  finger  with 
its  shining  token  towards  Elise,  was  her  only  answer. 

"  Why,  surely  something  has  happened,  girls,"  she 
said,  kissing  the  fair  cheek. 

Ginnie  whispered  in  her  ear  ;  she  gave  a  little  start, 
and  exclaimed  involuntarily,  in  a  tone  of  quick  sur- 
prise:  "•  Otto  !  "  Then  putting  her  arm  around  her 
successful  rival,  she  said,  looking  at  her  tenderly  : 

"  I  wish  you  much  joy,  and  1  hope  you  will  make 
each  other  very  happy." 

"Ah!  you  rogue,"  she  said,  shaking  her  finger  at 
Miss  Smart,  "  you  cheated  me,  I  am  going  to  look  at 
every  single  finger!"  and  there  was  a  scrambling 
and  running  and  hiding  of  hands  in  great  show  of 
playful  mystety,  until  Elise  had  proved  to  her  satis- 
faction that  only  one  of  the  lambs  had  thoughts  of 
straying  from  the  pastures  of  parental  love  into  the 
fold  of  a  stranger. 


ELISE  RETURNS.  243 

"  We  must  set  the  League  a-going,"  she  said,  en- 
thusiastically. "All  the  signs  say  it  will  be  a  hard 
winter,  and  no  doubt  we  shall  find  enough  to  do." 

Elise  did  not  wait  for  Mrs.  Eavle,  but  went  over 
that  very  evening  to  see  her  and  dear  old  "Gran,"- 
doubly  dear  now,  she  thought,  for  Channing's  sake, 
whose  place  she  must  in  a  measure  try  to  fill. 

"  I  will  speak  to  mother,"  said  Mrs.  Earle,  coolly, 
after  a  few  inquiries  of  Elise  about  her  health  and 
the  friends  she  had  left;  "  I  think  she  would  like  to 
see  you." 

Mrs.  Earle,  whose  keen,  maternal  eyes  mistrusted 
that  all  was  not  right  with  her  darling  son,  after 
Elise  left,  had  worried  his  secret  out  of  him,  and  was 
loud  in  her  denunciations  of  the  offender. 

"A  girl  that  puts  you  off,  my  son,  is  not  the  girl 
that  cares  for  you  or  the  girl  that  an  Earle  wants," 
she  said  to  him,  upon  making  the  discovery.  u  Carry 
your  head  high.  I  would  not  give  the  snap  of  my 
ringers  for  a  dozen  such.  She  has  been  fooling  you 
all  the  time,  just  as  she  did  Bresson.  I  always  sus- 
pected she  was  at  the  bottom  of  that  flare-up." 

But  when  she  found  little  success  in  arousing  an 
indignant  pride  and  was  haunted  by  his  pale  face  and 
the  determined  look  of  his  sad,  deep  eye,  her  motherly 
heart  began  to  search  for  and  apply  the  anodyne  of 
encouragement  ;  assuring  him  that  it  was  the  very 
best  thing  they  could  both  do — and  she  hadn't  the 
slightest  doubt  that  they  would  be  married  before  the 
year  was  up.  But  secretly  she  was  disaffected  to- 
wards Elise — she  charged  her  for  the  rankling  wound 
in  her  boy's  heart. 

It  was  unfortunate  for  Elise,  in  regard  to  both 
Channing's  and  his  mother's  estimate  of  her  conduct, 
that  she  had  not  made  more  of  a  confident  of  Mrs. 
Earle,  and  secured  her  championship.  But  Elise  was 
not  a  prominent  member  of  the  busy,  bustling  female 
Heart-Exchange,  with  its  whispered  secrets  and  false 
quotations  and  speculations  on  probable  and  improb- 


244  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

able  chances  of  matrimony,  and  had  quietly  resisted 
or  ignored  Mrs.  Earle's  insinuated  efforts  to  discover 
the  state  of  her  affections. 

Chan n ing  had  so  long  been  upon  the  rack  of  doubt 
that  when  the  answer  that  he  had  hoped  for  came  to 
him  with  guarded  conditions,  he  fell  back  into  the 
old  vein  of  distrust  of  himself  and  doubt  of  her  faith. 

He  assured  himself  that  after  Elise's  calm  denial  of 
any  further  dealings  with  Dresson,  that  source  of 
anxiety  ought  to  be  removed.  But  in  spite  of  all  his 
averments,  the  old  flame  was  rekindled.  He  could 
not  doubt  her  truthfulness,  but  he  also  could  not  quite 
abolish  Dresson  or  cancel  his  influence  over  Elise,  and 
a  fugitive  doubt,  once  admitted,  continued  to  linger 
and  haunt  him.  How  could  she  tell  but  Dresson 
might  again  exercise  a  magnetism  oveu  her?  And 
how  was  it  possible  for  Dresson  to  be  again  admitted 
to  intimate  terms  without  the  prospect  of  matrimony  ? 

To  go  and  leave  him  in  possession  of  the  field — to 
be  conscious  that  his  place  was  filled  by  another — 
and  that  other  a  despicable  rival,  to  realize  that  there 
would  be  no  time  left  her  to  cherish  any  memories  of 
himself,  this  made  the  picture  unbearably  galling. 
But  for  this  he  might,  with  a  certain  courageous 
stoicism  meet  the  shock  and  brave  the  interim  of  the 
absence — that  horrible  interregnum  when  all  the 
powers  of  his  soul  would  be  rising  in  anarchy. 

But  underneath  it  all  was  the  whispering  of  a  hope 
never  dead.  And  after  the  first  mighty  convulsions 
of  despair,  he  listened  to  the  voice.  God  is  still  over- 
head, he  said,  and  best  of  all,  right  here  in  my  heart, 

and  calmly  bowed  to  the  stroke  and  waited  for  the 
end.  So,  too,  now  Superba's  words  of  cheer,  whose 
false  ring  he  could  not  detect,  lightened  his  sky 
somewhat — they  were  the  eagerly  grasped  straws  of 
the  drowning  man.  It  was  the  force  of  this  touching 
calamity  so  full  of  an  unspoken  pathos  and  eloquence 
that  won  Superba's  consent  to  his  secretly  long 
cherished  plan  of  accomplishing  himself  for  active 
life  in  the  field  of  his  predilections-.  "Then,"  he 


ELISE  RETURNS.  245 

said,  "  I  shall  be  equipped  for  both  pursuits  and  can 
more  wisely  make  the  choice,  and  shall  at  least  lose 
nothing  by  a  more  thorough  drill  in  an  applied 
science." 

His  anomalous  position  jarred  on  him.  He  was 
neither  an  accepted  nor  a  rejected  lover,  but  floating 
loosely  in  the  mid-heavens,  the  subtle  ether  of  pos- 
sibilities. Had  he  not  gone  through  such  a  fiery  trial 
andmentalscourging,  his  nature  would  have  preserved 
better  its  elastic  rebound.  But  it  was  a  nature  with 
an  inherited  doubt  of  his  acceptability  with  the  fair 
sex — a  strange  blending  of  a  confidence  that  had 
never  been  shaken  in  his  powers  for  success  in  the 
affairs  of  life,  with  a  stratified  and  compacted  timidity 
in  the  lines  of  approach  and  consummation  of  the 
affairs  of  the  heart. 

The  six  months  of  absence  had  told  somewhat  upon 
Gran,  in  lines  of  greater  emaciation,  but  the  bright 
eyes  flashed  their  welcome,  as  Elise  stooped  over  her 
to  impress  her  token  on  the  still  red  lips. 

"Did  you  do  quite  right,  my  child?"  she  said  in 
the  midst  of  their  conversation  after  some  remark 
about  Channing. 

Mrs.  Earle  had  not  returned,  and  Elise,  who  had 
been  stung  by  her  Jtauteur,  now  realized  that  she  was 
censured  in  the  house  of  her  friends. 

She  could  not  reply,  although  she  understood 
instantly  the  allusion,  and  Gran  continued  : 

"Such  hearts  don't  grow  every  day;  you  might  not 
pick  up  such  another  noble  one  in  a  century  ;  and 
sometimes,  if  they  are  very  sensitive,  disappointment 
invites  defeat.  I  don't  say  but  what  he  will  be  true 
— but  it  is  a  hard  test,  my  child,  a  hard  test  for  one 
constituted  like  Channing,  and  may  be  the  means 
of " 

Elise  had  been  trying  to  master  the  shock  of  Gran's 
disapprobation,  but  she  could  not  endure  further 
reproaches. 

"  Oh  !  Gran,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you  not 
support  me  in  this?  Then  I  am  miserable  indeed," 
she  said,  "  for  it  is  hard  enough  to  bear  it,  with  all 


246  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

of  you  loving  me,  and  I  see  easily  that  you  are  es- 
tranged from  me,  when  I  meant  only  to  do  the  very 
best,  and  thought  you,  Gran,  of  all  others  Avould  say 
it  was  the  only  prudent,  safe  thing  to  do." 

But  she  did  not  know  that  Channing  had  not  told 
them  the  real  reason  of  her  postponement. 

"  Don't  get  so  agitated,  my  child.  Old  Gran  be- 
lieves it  will  all  come  right  yet — but  it  was  hard  on 
Channing,  and  I  was  only  going  to  say  that  it  might 
be  the  cause  of  his  being  set  against  all  women. 
There  is  that  danger,  you  know " 

"But  Gran,"  interrupted  Elise,  "I  have  only  post- 
poned it.  I  have  not,  and  never  mean  to  give  him  up 
—it  all  depends  upon  himself  to  consummate  it." 

But  Gran,  like  Superba,  could  not  quite  get  over 
the  affront  of  not  accepting,  on  the  instant,  their  im- 
maculate son,  and  she  could  not  easily  forget  the 
hurt  in  her  darling's  face  as  he  bade  her  good-bye. 

"  Well !  well !  "  she  said,  a  little  querulously,  "  it  is 
in  the  Lord's  hands  and  none  of  us  can  take  it  out. 
Even  you,  my  child"  (and  her  tone  was  softened 
now  to  its  usual  sweetness)  "even  you  cannot  hinder 
him  of  God's  providence ;  and  then  again,  nothing 
can  touch  a  hair  of  your  head  if  you  are  appointed 
his." 

Elise  kissed  the  dear  hand  she  was  holding. 

"It  seems  very  dark  and  very  cold  to  me  now, 
Gran,  if  you  are  all  blaming  me.  My  heart  has 
been  buried  under  what  seemed  a  load  of  ashes  ever 
since  " — and  she  paused  and  choked  down  the  sobs — 
"ever  since  I  told  him — and  then  you  know  Uncle 
Gray's  gone  too — the  lights  are  burning  low,  dear 
Gran — I  came  home  for  comfort." 

"  And  you  shall  have  it,  my  child,"  said  Grari,  all 
softened  at  the  sight  of  this  beautiful,  high-spirited 
girl  subdued  and  tender  as  a  child. 

"  And  there's  One  that  can  give  it  to  you  better 
than  old  Gran.  Tell  it  all  to  Jesus,  He  won't  be  so 
exacting  as  Gran ;  there's  no  selfishness  in  His  love, 
mine  is  all  mixed  up  with  Channing's  grief. 


ELISE  KETURNS.  247 

"  Listen, my  child,"  she  said, solemnly.  "All  this 
talk  is  born  of  Gran's  fears"  She  looked  keenly  at 
Elise  with  those  brilliant  black  eyes,  and  then  said : 
"  But  I  am  going  to  dismiss  my  fears  for  your  sake 
and  mine,  and  because  it  isn't  the  way  of  peace  to  a 
soul  just  going  out." 

"  Oh  !  don't  say  that,  dear  Gran,"  said  Elise. 

"  I  may  not  live  to  see  it,"  Gran  continued,  "but 
I  expect  it  will  be!  Do  you  understand?"  she 
asked,  looking  at  her  searchingly. 

"It  will  be,"  said  Elise,  calmly  and  steadily  answer- 
ing her  look,  "  if  it  is  left  with  me  to  decide." 

"It  is  all  written  down  up  yonder,"  she  said,  "and 
what's  there  is  all  for  the  best. 

"  You  believe,"  she  asked,  affirmatively,  "that  your 
name  is  written  in  the  Book  of  Remembrance  that  the 
Lord  keeps,  my  child  ?  " 

Elise  hesitated  a  moment.  "  Why,  I  suppose  so," 
she  answered  at  length. 

"When  1  was  about  sixty — getting  old,  they  called 
it,"  Gran  said,  smiling,  "  I  lost  a  precious  friend,  a 
lady  who  had  been  as  intimate  as  a  sister.  She  died 
suddenly,  and  her  afflicted  husband  sent  me  word  of 
his  bereavement,  and  in  the  same  note  begged  me  to 
come  to  the  funeral.  I  was  a  very  dear  friend,  you 
remember  ?  ': — Elise  assented — "and  I  was  feeble  so 
that  I  could  not  have  walked  to  the  grave,  neither 
were  the  friends  expected  to  walk.  The  surviving 
partner  of  my  friend  was  a  minister,  and  of  course 
all  the  congregation  would  wish  to'  come  ;  then  her 
relatives  and  his  from  a  distance  were  another 
throng. 

"  They  held  private  services  first  at  the  house — 
and  it  was  to  that  I  was  invited  specially  to  be  pres- 
ent— and  afterwards  the  funeral  ceremonial  at  the 
church.  To  insure  the  attendance  at  the  grave  of 
their  especial  friends,  the  names  were  called  off  as 
the  carriages  drove  up  to  the  door  to  take  them  to 
the  church,  and  that  would  secure  the  carriage  to 


248  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

the  same  occupants  when  the  funeral  procession  was 
made  up. 

"  There  were  several  rooms,  and  a  man  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs  in  the  hall,  as  the  most  central 
point  for  all  to  hear' when  lie  called  off  the  names. 
I  crowded  my  way  to  a  door  where  I  could  hear 
when  my  name  was  called,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  go. 

"  He  read  through  a  long  list  of  the  relatives,  and 
then  commenced  'on  friends.  I  wanted  to  go,  you 
know,"  she  said,  looking  at  Elise,  "to  see  the  last 
sad  ceremonies,  and  I  couldn't  go,  you  see,  unless 
there  was  a  place  provided  for  me.  I  listened  very 
carefully,  for  now  I  knew  my  name  must  come  very 
soon.  But  still  I  did  not  hear  it,  and  my  heart  began 
to  beat  fast,  very  fast,  with  the  grave  apprehension 
that  possibly  he  might  not  call  it.  And  yet  I 
expected  to  hear  it,  for  I  was  a  chosen  friend,  known 
to  be  such  by  all.  Still  the  man  read  on,  and  I 
thought,  is  it  possible  that  they  have  left  me  out  ? 
And  then  I  began  to  fear  that  my  name  was  indeed 
left  out,  for  it  could  never  be  so  far  down  on  the  list 
as  that,  and  my  anxious  heart  was  throbbing  so  vio- 
lently I  thought  those  standing  next  me  would  hear 
it, 

"And  then,  in  an  instant,  in  the  hushed  stillness 
of  that  assembly,  for  there  was  tlmt  sort  of  eager 
breathlessness  of  suspense  that  tells  you  that  all 
minds  are  full  of  the  same  unspoken  thought- — it  was 
as  solemn  as  the  judgment-day — the  thought  flashed 
across  me  in  the  words  of  the  hymn,  'What  if  my 
name  should  be  left  out! '  on  that  great  day,  the  day 
of  assizes,  when  the  Lord  shall  open  his  Book  of 
Remembrance  and  call  off  the  names  of  his  friends? 

"  The  man  finished — but  my  name  had  not  been 
called.  I  sank  down  in  a  chair,  overcome  with  the 
strain  of  intense  desire  and  doubt,  and  wept  bitterly 
to  think  I  had  been  left  out.  I  never  wish  to  experi- 
ence any  deeper  pain  than  I  had  at  the  moment, 
when  I  knew  I  was  not  one  of  the  chosen  ones,  but 
oh ! " — and  Gran  clasped  her  hands  and  raised  her 


ELISE  RETURNS:  249 

eyes  to  heaven — "what  untold  agony  will  strike  like 
a  fiery  dart  through  the  soul  whose  name  is  'left  out' 
of  that  great  Book  of  Remembrance  kept  by  our 
Lord  I 

"  Better  have  no  'supposes,'  my  child,  where  such 
an  entry  as  that  is  concerned.  '  Make  your  calling 
and  election  sure  ;  '  lay  up  your  treasure  in  heaven. 
Isn't  your  mind  a  little  off  from  your  crown?"  she 
said,  touchingly. 

Elise  was  much  affected.  "  I  thank  you,  dear 
Gran,"  she  said,  "for  your  interest  in  the  motherless 
one.  May  I  come  again  soon  ?  " 

"Gran  sees  it  all  clear  now,"  she  said,  with  her  old 
fondness,  putting  her  arms  around  Elise.  "Keep  up 
good  heart.  You  my  be  sure  of  Gran's  sympathy, 
living  or  dying.  Come  soon — come  in  the  morning." 


250  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ELISE   CROSSES    THE   LAST    THRESHOLD. 

THE  next  morning,  as  Elise  and  Lilian  were  still 
lingering  at  the  breakfast-table,  the  Doctor,  who  was 
standing  by  a  window  in  the  dining-room  that  com- 
manded a  view  of  Elise's  house  and  grounds,  called 
out  summarily : 

"  Come  here,  Elise  !  You  see  I  am  getting  on  in 
years,  and  not  always  taking  my  full  share  of  the 
good  things  going,  because  I  am  so  confoundedly 
busy.  Last  spring  as  I  had  my  eye  out  on  a  pros- 
pecting expedition  while  standing  at  this  window,  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  have  clumps  of  fruit  trees — the 
peen-to  peach,  Japanese  plum,  custard-apple,  with  the 
double-flowering  ornamental  peach,  away  down  there 
in  the  burn,  do  you  see?  I  mean  by  the  brook  at 
the  foot  of  your  slope,  on  your  premises?" 

"  And  who  has  a  better  right  ?  "  she  said,  laughing. 
"  My  Doctor  shall  pre-empt  any  spot  he  pleases  for 
his  charitable  designs." 

"Now  there  you  are  all  wrong — it  isn't  for  sweet 
charity  at  all.  It  is  because  I'm  a  growing  aesthete. 
Smell  my  breath — isn't  it  like  new  milk,  and  my  nose 
like  a  pomegranate,  and  my  hair  like  the  roe  on  the 
mountains?  Oh  !  I  am  blossoming  out,  I  can  tell 
you!" 

"Why,  my  dear,"  said  Lilian  "you  are  delineating 
calfhood !  " 

"I  am  surprised,  Mrs.  Healey,  that,  with  all  your 
literary  cultivation  you  show  such  profound  ignorance 
of  the  Bible. 

"  Now  that  chimp  or  those  clumps,  Elise,"  he  said, 


ELISE  CROSSES  THE  LAST  THRESHOLD.       251 

resuming,  "  are  my  picturesque  facts — that  is  all 
under  heaven  I  want  of  them.  The  birds,  or  who- 
ever you  say,  Elise,"  he  said  with  a  flourish,  "  may 
have  the  fruit,  so  I  have  my  fill  of  that  tender  ex- 
quisite pink  and  white  bloom  that  crowns  the  spring 
mornings  with  a  fresh  and  budding  beauty. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Mrs.  Healey,  for 
rhetoric  ?  " 

"  Brilliant,  of  course.  It  makes  me  forget  what 
season  this  is.  Why,  isn't  it  spring?"  she  said 
with  mock  surprise,  shading  her  eyes  and  looking 
down  the  burn,  "  I  think  I  can  see  the  bloom  !  " 

"  That  will  do,  you  arch  hypocrite,"  he  said,  snatch- 
ing a  kiss. 

"  But  why  don't  you  go  on  ?"  she  asked. 

"  That  is  much  my  intention,  Mrs.  Healey,  after 
the  murmurs  of  an  applauding  audience  have  fully 
subsided.  Of  course,  Elise,  a  scientific  man  like  my- 
self found  it  expedient  to  call  in  a  husbandman,  eh, 
Lily?" 

"  Yes,"  she  laughed,  "  that's  correct." 

"  One  who  attends  to  such  little  agricultural  mat- 
ters for  a  small  consideration,  you  know  ;  and  having 
secured  him  for  that,  it  was  inevitable  that  he,  being 
a  man  of  aesthetic  perceptions,  should  fix  his  eye  on 
this  waste  land  between  us,  and  desire  to  give  us  a 
little  taste  of  what  Wordsworth  calls  the  'cultivated 
pomp  of  nature,'  and  so  I  turned  him  in  here  and 
let  him  loose." 

"  Oh  !  you  are  a  blessed  man  !  I  have  been  looking 
out  of  my  window  ail  the  morning  in  a  perfect  daze 
of  bewildered  enchantment.  Why,  it  was  real  magic 
to  me  to  see  such  triumphs  of  landscape-gardening 
where  all  was  wild  nature  before." 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  downright  blessing,  when  it  comes 
so  much  in  the  line  of  my  own  pleasure,  you  see. 
Well,  then  of  course  Car-Michael — that's  the  artist 
of  husbandly,  that  clumped  the  tre-es  and  gardened 
the  landscape,  you  knows — seemed  to  find  no  end  of 
matters  that  must  be  attended  to  in  the  Paradise  he 


252  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

had  created  (odds  and  ends  that  must  be  fixed  up  to 
keep  his  Paradise  in  order),  and  the  upshot  of  it  is, 
that  he's  settled  for  the  winter.  Bertha  and  he  mess  to- 
gether in  the  kitchen,  and  you  over  here,  and  so  he'll 
be  with  you  this  winter  for  your  odd  jobs  and  chores 
about  the  house." 

"  Oh,  Lily  !  "  said  Elise,  throwing  her  arms  around 
Lily's  neck,  "  isn't  he  good  and  sweet  and  kind?  " 

"Better  think  it  over,  before  you  make  any  rash 
speeches,"  said  Doctor,  vanishing  through  the  door. 

"  And  lie  has  two  classes  engaged  for  you,  my 
pet,"  said  Lily,  enfolding  the  lone  one,  "  one  for  paint- 
ing and  one  for  carving." 

"  Oh !  I  am  so  glad  !  "  Elise  cried,  "  the  dear  good 
man !  " 

"  Every  inch  of  him  !  "  said  Lily,  "  but  don't  you 
think  we  have  hearts  ?  And  what  are  hearts  for,  I 
should  like  to  know,  if  they  can't  do  a  little  extra 
throbbing  for  our  neighbor-over-the-way  !  " 

"  Well,  the  one  that  went  to  Jericho  and  fell  among 
thieves,  he  wasn't  picked  up  any  more  tenderly  and 
cared  for  any  more  generously  than  I,  and  I  only 
fell  from  fortune." 

"  Well,  that  was  a  dizzy  height,  and  would  have 
killed  most  any  one  but  my  own  brave  darling,"  re- 
plied Lilian. 

The  shortening  days  were  filled  with  a  new  and 
busy  life  for  Elise,  who  WHS  feeding  on  the  sweet 
hope  of  a  reunion  in  the  beautiful  springtime  with 
a  tried  friend  and  lover. 

Superba's  haughty  air  did  not  change  towards  her, 
but  Elise  encouraged  herself  to  believe  that  soon 
Channing's  presence  would  dissipate  all  clouds. 

Gran  had  been  a  never-failing  comfort  as  long  as 
they  remained,  which  was  only  until  just  before 
Thanksgiving ;  they  spent  that  day  under  the  roof 
where  Gran  and  her  son  were  born. 

Elise  missed  sadly  this  only  tie  between  her  loved 
and  absent  one,  but  struggled  on  bravely  in  her 
austere  life  of  work. 


ELISE  CROSSES  THE  LAST  THRESHOLD.       253 

March  came  with  its  tyrannizing  bluster  of  wind 
and  dust,  and  as  she  sat  in  her  lonely  boudoir,  she 
thought  of  the  critical  evening  upon  which  she  had 
so  nearly  compromised  her  fair  name  as  hostess  by  re- 
fusing to  see  Dresson  when  in  that  spasm  of  sublime 
audacity  he  had  suddenly  crossed  her  threshold. 

The  blossoms  had  come  forth  in  late  February,  the 
resurrection  month,  and  were  fast  shedding  their 
petals  and  setting  their  fruit  during  the  early  reign 
of  this  coquettish  month.  Siie  watched  the  calendar 
with  a  feverish,  nervous  dread,  and  yet  with  a  hope 
that  would  not  be  suppressed. 

Bright-eyed,  dancing,  singing  April  festooned  gar- 
den and  walls  with  her  floral  tributes,  and  as  she 
glanced  at  her  calendar  she  saw  that  there  was  but 
one  more  day. 

"I  cannot  work  to-day,"  she  said,  "I  am  too  ex- 
cited and  unstrung.  We  must  all  have  a  holiday.  I 
will  tell  the  girls  so  when  they  come." 

But  as  she  tore  off  the  slip  from  her  illuminated 
record  and  read — 


•  Best  is  not  quitting  the  busy  career,    . 
Rest  is  the  fitting  of  self  to  its  sphere," 


she  remembered  that  Channing  had  said  to  her  on 
that  eventful  night  when  her  heart  first  awoke  to  its 
love,  "  We  must  do  the  duty  that  lies  nearest,  you 
know ;  "  and  she  quietly  picked  up  the  threads  of 
her  life's  web,  and  carried  it  on  in  the  same  old 
monotonous  measure,  with  an  imprisoned  hope,  hum- 
ming a  low,  sweet  melody. 

A  year,  a  month,  and  a  day  ! 

How  long  it  seemed  since  they  stood  in  the  moon- 
light together,  on  this  same  balcony,  where  now  she 
was  straining  eager  eyes  for  a  familiar  object  that 
surely  must  soon  appear.  All  day  long  she  had  been 
buoyed  by  a  strong,  though  trembling  hope,  but  now 
her  heart  was  filled  with  a  wild,  tumultuous  yearn- 
ing, mingled  with  spasms  of  tormenting  doubt. 


254  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

v 

Lily  was  with  her,  and  they  each  stifled  the  rising 
fears  as  the  hours  of  the  evening  passed  on  and  on  ; 
at  first  chatting  in  a  lively  vein  in  the  sweet  antici- 
pation, then  soberly  calculating  the  chances  and 
times  of  steamer  and  car  from  Annatoo,  then  at  last 
seriously  speculating  upon  the  mischance  ;  with  yet  a 
feeble,  ghostly  hope,  until  the  knell  of  despair  to 
Elise's  soul  struck  in  the  hour  of  twelve. 

It  was  a  night  of  bitter  agony  and  self-reproach, 
but  it  curtained  her  misery  from  curious  eyes.  None 
in  the  village  but  Lily  knew  of  her  crushed  hopes,  so 
that  with  dull,  aching  heart,  but  serene  face,  she  as- 
sumed her  responsibilities  when  the  morning  sum- 
moned her  unrefreshed  powers  to  another  contest 
with  the  practical  life  of  which  she  was  the  centre. 

She  was  not  prepared  for  the  disappointment ;  her 
heart  had  not  for  one  moment  lost  its  trust  in  Chan- 
ning's  iidelity.  She  regarded  him  as  a  man  of  such 
iron  determination  that  he  would  even  conquer  im- 
possibilities to  compass  his  object,  and  join  her  on 
the  appointed  night.  Her  faith  had  surmounted  the 
temptations  of  his  absence,  and  why  should  not  his  ? 
It  had  been  harder  than  she  knew  when  she  fixed 
the  condition,  not  to  hear  one  word  of  him  during 
the  weary  circling  of  the  months,  but  she  had  borne 
up  under  the  load,  and  it  helped  her  to  think  of  him 
in  the  same  patient  attitude  day  by  day  waiting  for 
time  to  release  them.  She  had  pictured  him  to  her 
imagination,  since  she  knew  of  his  Italian  tour,  as 
still  traveling,  and  drinking  in  deep  draughts  from 
the  old  world's  fountains  of  artistic  beauty — for 
when  the  Earles  left  the  village  he  had  not  gone  to 
Freiburg. 

But  that  was  six  months  ago !  She  began  to 
awaken  to  the  flight  of  time,  and  ask  herself  with  a 
wild,  irrepressible  longing,  where  in  the  wide  world 
was  her  heart  of  hearts?  But  that  did  not  bring  him, 
nor  any  tidings  of  him,  and  when  in  a  few  days  Lily 
came  in  with  an  open  letter  from  Mr.  Earle,  in 
answer  to  an  inquiry  from  Doctor  as  to  the  where- 


ELISE  CROSSES  THE  LAST  THRESHOLD.       255 

abouts  of  his  son,  she  read  in  a  firm,  legible  hand, 
every  word  underlined  : 

"  We  have  not  heard  from  my  son  for  three 
months,  and  do  not  know  whether  he  is  dead  or  alive. 
The  last  we  knew  of  him  he  was  in  Heidelberg." 

She  felt  paralyzed ;  a  deep  misery  took  possession 
of  her — tears  were  a  mockery  and  life  a  delusive 
bauble. 

Now  she  knew,  in  the  plenitude  and  bitterness  of 
this  sorrow,  that  she  had  "  crossed  that  last  thresh- 
old " — entered  the  unspeakable  chamber  of  mourning  ! 
And  Chauning  was  not  here !  Had  he  not  promised 
to  be  with  her  in  the  infinite  crisis?  "Oh,  my 
God ! "  she  cried  from  the  depths  of  her  prostrate 
soul,  "  Have  pity  !  Spare  me !  " 

And  Gran's  words  flashed  upon  her  with  a  new 
meaning.  "  Hold  your  blessings  lightly,  my  child, 
then  it  won't  be  so  hard  to  let  them  go  !  "  She  had 
grasped  hard,  clung  tightly  to  this  hope — she  would 
not  part  with  it;  the  dismemberment  of  her  body 
even  could  not  sever  its  vital  relation  with  her  soul. 

Lily  tried  to  comfort  her. 

"Oh!  Lily,  if  you  only  knew,"  she  exclaimed  to 
the  dear  friend  to  whom  she  could  pour  out  her  an- 
guish, "  what  a  dull,  heavy  ache  lies  right  here  " — and 
she  placed  her  hand  upon  her  heart.  "  Such  a  suffo- 
cating feeling  of  oppression — these  stifling  emotions 
— sometimes  they  almost  choke  me !  I  go  over  and 
over  the  same  weary  round  of  thoughts  until  T  am 
nearly  wild  with  the  monotonous  repetition.  How 
useless  a  piece  of  mechanism  is  all  the  delicate  con- 
trivances of  the  brain,  when  the  nervous  force  is  all 
centered  upon  one  idea! — how  unbalanced  all  the 
powers  become  !  Am  I  going  crazy  ?"  she  exclaimed, 
and  her  tone  had  in  it  such  a  thrill  of  desperation 
that  Lily  was  alarmed. 

"Oh  !  Elise,  it  is  so  hard,  I  know,  but  do  try  to 
control  yourself — you  cannot  tell  what  may  happen 
unless  you  do." 

"  It  is  useless  advice,  Lily  dear,"  she  said,  shaking 


256  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

her  head  sadly.  "  So  I  say  to  myself,  I  will  not  give 
up  to  it — but  it  comes  and  comes  and  conies — when 
will  it  end  ?  All  my  deep  emotions,  all  my  truth,  all 
my  purity,  have  been  consecrated  here — and  here  it 
is  a  holocaust  all  in  vain.  I  can  pray  all  the  good 
prayers,  and  I  try  to  take  to  myself  all  the  good  prom- 
ises— but  I  cannot  help  feeling — I  cannot  forget! 
If  I  could  only  get  rid  of  the  nights.  Lily  !  In  the 
agonizing  silence  thoughts  come  trooping  out  like 
living  spirits,  that  I  never  dreamed  were  in  my 
heart.  I  have  found  myself  dissecting  my  very  soul 
— the  brain  has  been  whirling,  whirling,  and  I  have 
searched  and  analyzed  all  my  past,  and  shaped  into 
actual  phrases  of  meaning  everything  vague  and  un- 
determined. I  dream,  and  I  am  so  restless,  and  wake 
so  early,  and  think,  and  think — when  I  don't  want  to 
think!'1''  she  exclaimed, 'with  a  passionate  bitterness. 

"  Only  have  patience,  Elise,  and  time  and  God's 
good  Providence,  which  is  over  us  all,  will  reconcile 
you  to  the  inevitable.  Why,  you  know  even  the 
ocean  requires  months  of  rest  to  recover  from  its 
equinoctial  tossings ;  and  the  heart,  the  living  heart 
— so  delicate  that  it  is  moved  by  the  tiniest  zephyr  of 
feeling — when  surcharged  with  restlessness  by  such 
a  tremendous  upheaval  as  yours,  my  dear — must  have 
time  to  fall  gradually  into  its  accustomed  pul- 
sations." 

"  I  suppose,"  she  answered,  "  I  shall  get  more  and 
more  reconciled  to  what  you  consider  '  inevitable,' 
and  as  you  say,  time  and  God's  wonderful  grace 
must  do  the  healing  work.  And  I  think  I  must  not 
talk  about  it  any  more,  Lily,  and  try  to  forget  it." 

Lily  had  the  abundant  words  of  a  smooth  philos- 
ophy, unsavored  by  an  experience  of  the  riches  of 
divine  grace,  and  could  not  administer  the  comfort 
she  needed  ;  but  her  heart  bled  for  her  darling  friend, 
and  such  talks  were  of  great  use  to  Elise. 

Gran  had  said  to  her  once  in  those  opulently 
shining  days  : 

"  '  He  that  is  down  needs  fear  no  fall,'  the  poet  says, 


ELISE  CROSSES  THE  LAST  THRESHOLD.       257 

my  child,  If  you  ever  get  really  down,  lying  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  God  may  so  penetrate  your  soul 
with  Himself,  that  life  and  all  eternity  will  seem  too 
short  to  tell  the  wonders  you  beheld  there." 

"  Dear  Gran,"  Elise  thought,  "  how  little  she  knew 
of  this  trial  then." 

And  now  she  had  a  letter  from  her  venerable 
friend,  with  no  word  of  Charming,  but  full  of  sweet 
comfort  penned  by  the  dear  old  fingers.  Elise  kissed 
it  and  wept  over  it,  as  she  read : 

"  Do  you  know  what  Christ's  legacies  were,  my 
child — did  you  ever  read  His  will?  He  gave  His 
Spirit  to  His  Father,  His  body  to  Joseph,  His  Mother 
to  John,  and  to  His  disciples — peace.  '  My  peace  I 
give  unto  you! '  Oh  !  invaluable  inheritance!  It  is 
yours,  my  child ;  seek  it  at  the  cross." 

But  would  God  hear  her  prayer?  She  had  for- 
gotten Him  in  the  days  of  her  prosperity  ;  were  not 
His  depths  of  mercy  sealed  against  her?  She  had 
thought  again  and  again,  since  Gran  had  repeated 
that  little  incident  in  her  life,  she  ought  not  to  have 
any  "supposes"  about  her  heavenly  birth.  She  had 
lived  a  moral  life,  but  she  had  not  lived  up  to  her 
Christian  privileges,  she  knew,  and  now,  when  her 
need  was  sorest,  and  her  soul  in  its  crucial  test,  she 
found  no  refuge,  no  solace  in  her  religion. 

As  the  days  wore  on,  under  the  pangs  of  a  quick- 
ened conscience,  this  dull,  hard  load  of  unassured 
citizenship  in  the  heavenly  kingdom  became  a  sharp, 
penetrating  agony,  measurably  displacing  the  grief 
of  her  selfish  love.  She  thought  of  the  hour  when 
she  had  consecrated  herself  to  God — ages  ago  it 
seemed,  although  it  was  only  eleven  years — of  the 
little  darkened  chamber  where,  with  her  renewed 
earthly  vision,  her  Heavenly  Father  illumined  her 
soul  with  His  presence,  and  took  her  to  Himself. 
Her  life  was  in  processional  review  before  her.  She 
saw  that  she  had  used  all  God's  good  things,  and  that 
her  heart  had  been  "lifted  up"  like  Hezekiah's,  and 
like  him,  too,  she  had  no<i  "  tendered  again  according 


258  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

to  the  benefit  done  "  unto  her — and  with  him,  too. 
there  fell  from  her  moaning  lips,  "  Behold  !  for  peace 
I  had  great  bitterness ! " 

Why  should  she  not  seek  her  Heavenly  Father, 
confess  her  sin,  and  be  restored  to  His  grace  ?  Why 
go  hungry  and  fainting  when  there  was  enough  and 
to  spare  in  her  Father's  house? 

So,  at  last,  there  came  from  her  bruised  and 
stricken  spirit,  weary  with  the  struggle  and  sinking 
•low  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  the  pleading  cry : 

"  O  Lord  !    I  am  oppressed — undertake  for  me  !  " 

She  dropped  her  burden  there;  she  caught  the  in- 
spiring message  from  Heaven's  courts  :  "  Thy  faith 
hath  saved  tliee.  Go  in  peace, "  and  rose  with  the 
anthem  in  her  heart :  "  For  Thou  hast  in  love  to  my 
soul  delivered  it  from  the  pit  of  corruption  ;  for  Thou 
hast  cast  all  my  sins  behind  Thy  back." 

She  could  leave  it  now — this  dumb,  aching  mystery 
— without  murmur  in  His  hand  who  had  "under- 
taken "  for  her,  and  in  the  sweet  submission  of  a  re- 
vitalized faithjcould  bow,  without  a  question  of  when 
or  how  the  secret  should  be  revealed. 


THE  PESTILENCE.  259 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

THE   PESTILENCE. 

"  There  was  lack  of  woman's  nursing, 
There  was  dearth  of  woman's  tears." 

Mrs.  Norton. 

UNDER  the  mysterious  power  of  God's  sanctifying 
grace,  the  daily  life  of  Elise  became  like  an  illumi- 
nated missal  written  by  the  divine  finger.  The  deli- 
cious calm  of  her  presence  was  the  fragrance  of  this 
inward,  fresh  growing  plant  of  piety,  rooted  deep  in 
the  soul. 

To  her  thought  now,  to  be  a  Christian  was  a  call 
transcending  all  other  duties,  ranks,  or  titles.  More 
than  the  wifehood  that  had  slipped  from  her  trem- 
bling grasp,  was  this  sainthood  of  heavenly  birth  into 
which  she  had  been  baptized.  In  it  was  a  spell  to 
call  forth  every  gracious  affection,  every  ambitious 
impulse,  every  noble  endeavor.  "My  Maker  is 
my  Husband,  my  Redeemer  is  his  name,"  was  not 
merely  a  conventional  motto  on  cloistered  walls, 
but  a  divine,  a  sanctifying  atmosphere  in  which  she 
lived  and  loved,  labored  and  suffered,  in  which  she 
was  content  to  die — since  earth  could  furnish  no 
pillow  so  sweet  in  the  supreme  hour  of  dissolution  as 
the  bosom  of  her  adorable  Lord. 

When  the  pivotal  crisis  of  her  life  came,  in  the 
discovery  of  an  absorbing  love  for  the  man  all  worthy 
of  it,  whom  her  heart  delighted  to  honor,  she 
knew  that  it  was  deep  as  life  and  lasting  as  eternity. 
The  beloved  object  might  never  again  cross  the 
horizon  of  her  vision,  his  love  for  her  might  wither 
and  perish,  he  might  even  take  to  himself  a  fair, 


260  THE  OPAL  QUEEN, 

young  bride — but  for  her,  this  first  abounding, 
impetuous  love,  would  also  be  her  only  one,  her 
last. 

But  hers  was  no  shallow  nature,  to  brood  over  the 
inevitable  and  long  for  the  impossible.  The  Provi- 
dence that  watched  every  sparrow  light  upon  the 
ground  was  shaping'  her  life  to  suit  his  own  glori- 
ous plans.  She  would  wait  and  watch  and  wonder, 
in  serene  repose,  till  the  coming  of  her  sunshine,  here 
or  yonder. 

So  she  took  up  her  burden,  not  like  the  "great  St. 
Paul,  with  a  moan,"  but  with  a  song.  She  could  not 
disguise  that  it  was  a  burden,  even  from  herself.  The 
long,  tedious  days  after  the  appointed  hour  of 
meeting,  that  grew  into  months  with  not  a  whisper 
in  them  of  promise  or  fidelity ;  the  absolute  silence 
and  blank  that  had  fallen  like  a  shroud  upon  her 
new-found  joy  ;  the  obtruding  thoughts  and  fears  of 
her  lover's  disaffection — these  were  no  myths  but 
hindrances  in  her  pathway — spots  on  her  sun  as  real 
as  intangible. 

But  now  with  self  dwarfed  and  God's  will  par- 
amount, life  had  a  new  and  consecrated  meaning. 
There  was  a  hidden  pulse  that  she  felt  throbbing 
with  her  own  ;  the  deep  undertone  of  creation  pen- 
etrated her  being.  Every  flower  was  a  love-token, 
every  human  creature  was  a  brother.  She  wanted  to 
encompass  humanity  in  the  arms  of  her  awakened 
"love  of  benevolence,"  to  open  up  to  them  the  way 
of  life,  the  knowledge  of  this  precious  Redeemer  who 
was  the  stay  and  comfort  of  her  storm-tossed  soul. 

She  threw  mighty  efforts  into  the  League;  was 
untiring  in  her  ministrations  upon  the  poor  and  sick, 
brightening  up  their  dingy  homes  with  love-scraps 
from  her  "feast  of  fat  things"  and  with  dainty  bits 
of  her  aesthetic  work  where  it  would  be  appreciated; 
and  teaching  them  daily  to  combine  Christian  duty 
with  Christian  beauty.  She  had  the  joy  of  beholding 
the  living  plants  of  nature  thriving  witli  the  living 
plants  of  grace:  peace,  joy,  love,  temperance, patience, 


THE  PESTILENCE.  261 

goodlier,    in   the   rooms,    and   daisies,    geraniums, 
mignonette,  fuchsias,  in  the  window-gardens. 

"  Oh,  dearest !  I  cannot,  cannot  let  you  go ! " 
exclaimed  Lilian,  clinging  to  her  husband  in  an  agony 
.of  startled  apprehension  that  she  was  going  to  lose 
him  forever. 

"  But  you  know,  Lilian,  I  have  been  putting  the 
call  of  duty  on  other  shoulders  for  three  weeks  now, 
won  over  by  your  pleading.  I  feel  that  I  am  called 
now  imperatively.  I  cannot  shift  the  responsibility 
any  longer.  No  other  man  can  perform  my  duty  for 
me.  It  rests  with  oneself  to  discharge  snch  obliga- 
tions. The  cry  is  loud,  our  fellow-beings  are  dying 
by  hundreds,  because  physicians  have  not  stood 
heroically  at  the  post  of  suffering,  have  deserted  the 
plague-stricken  streets." 

"  But  it  isn't  here,  dear,  and  those  that  live  there 
ought  to  attend  to  their  own  sick." 

"The  contagion  is  all  through  the  air,  Lilian,  and 
the  town  is  not  so  far  that  a  favoring  wind  might 
not  easily  bring  it  in  a  few  hours.  One  of  the  best 
ways  to  keep  off  its  ravages  after  sanitary  precautions 
and  quarantine  regulations  is  to  fight  it  where  it  is 
rife — in  its  stronghold.  I  could  -not  answer  my 
conscience,  Lily  dear,  if  I  refuse  to  follow  its  lead- 
ing now.  Some  one  must  take  the  risks  for  the  sake 
of  suffering  humanity,  and  there  is  no  doubt  in  my 
mind  that  I  am  called  to  the  work.  But  my  dear 
wife  need  not  think  that  it  is  necessarily  a  sacrifice 
of  my  life.  God  willing,  we  shall  spend  many  more 
happy  days  together." 

Lilian  knew  it  was  magnanimous— heroic.  But 
she  was  not  convinced  that  it  was  duty — and  she  was 
not  anxious  for  her  husband  to  immortalize  himself 
as  a  martyr  to  principle. 

But  she  had  learned  long  ago  to  yield  when  the 
Doctor  urged  a  point  of  duty,  for  there  she  knew  he 
was  inflexible. 


2G2  THE  OPAL  QUEEN: 

"But'  what  will  Elise  and  I  do?"  she  said,  pit- 
eon  sly. 

"Elise  is  going  with  me,"  he  replied  iu  a  hushed 
tone,  as  though  it  was  not  with  his  fullest  assent. 

"  The  crazy  girl !  "  cried  Lilian.  "  I  shall  forbid 
it,  this  minute !  "  and  she  tore  herself  from  hei; 
husband's  embrace,  to  rush  over  to  Elise  and  an- 
nounce her  veto. 

"  Wait !  Lilian,"  the  Doctor  said,  encircling  her 
again  in  the  strong  arms.  "  We  have  talked  it  all  over. 
She  is  not  to  be  dissuaded — firm  as  a  rock.  I  have 
used  argument  and  persuasion  and  entreaties,  but 
.with  no  better  result  than  that  she  has  been  pleading 
with  me  and  I  have  at  last  given  in  ;  if  she  may  not 
accompany  me,  she  will  go  unprotected,  and  throw 
herself  into  this  dreadful  breach  as  a  nurse.  And 
you  will  be  surprised,  dear,  to  see  how  happy  she  is 
in  the  anticipation.  She  called  me  in  just  now,  as  I 
was  passing,  to  tell  me  of  her  resolution  and  beg  my 
consent.  She  was  fairly  radiant  with  the  thought  of 
martyrdom.  That  is  a  little  too  strongly  expressed, 
I  guess,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  but  I  haven't  time 
now  to  rummage  around  my  brain  to  hunt  just 
the  right  words.  You  see  her,  Lilian,  and  you'll 
understand  it  then  yourself." 

Elise  stood  on  such  a  high  place  of  consecrated 
endeavor  ever  since  her  new  baptism,  that  she  had 
disposed  of  herself  and  renounced  happiness — to  take 
in  its  stead  blessedness — and  stilled  her  heart  into 
such  resignation  to  the  divine  will,  that  no  sacrifice 
seemed  too  great  for  her  ardent  soul.  All  lior  en- 
thusiasm for  the  beautiful  was  turned  into  the 
avenues  of  a  soft  religious  blessedness,  and  utilized 
there  as  decorative  agencies  for  the  households  of 
poverty.  Now  was  she  in  the  highest,  noblest  sense 
an  ideal  aesthete,  using  the  charms  of  the  beautiful 
for  the  development  of  the  good — now  was  the 
Christian  education  superadded  to  the  highest  art- 
culture. 

Her  jewels  had  been  laid  aside  for  many  a  month, 


THE  PESTILENCE.  263 

but  she  was  still  the  Opal  Queen,  not  with  the  ubiqui- 
tous flashes  of  the  gay  spontaneity  that  had  made  her 
atmosphere  so  brilliant  before,  but  with  a  soft  lam- 
bency of  humor — a  mellowed  iridescence  that  pene- 
trated all  hearts  and  set  her  apart  in  a  hallowed 
sphere  of  her  own. 

Little  Miss  Tete,  whose  mind  was  constantly 
harassed  by  domestic  infelicities,  found  a  congenial 
refuge  for  all  her  grief  in  Elise's  heart  and  home. 
She  was  a  faithful  satellite,  revolving  in  the  sphere 
of  her  chosen  primary.  She  begged  hard  for  permis- 
sion to  accompany  Elise,  which  after  parental  con- 
sent could  not  well  be  refused. 

Bertha,  ever  faithful,  knew  that  she  would  not  be 
able  to  support'the  anxiety  of  her  mistress's  absence  ; 
she  had  no  thought  of  peril  for  herself  where  the 
safety  of  her  mistress  was  concerned,  and  would  not 
be  left  behind. 

The  little  corps  of  valiant  workers  in  the  medical 
field,  fainting  under  their  ill-proportioned  load,  were 
greatly  encouraged  by  the  reinforcement  of  the 
Doctor's  party,  and  resumed  their  duties  with  re- 
newed alacrity  and  gratified  hearts. 

For  days  and  weeks  the  long  wards  of  the  hospital 
were  trodden  by  these  two  amateur  nurses,  who 
addressed  themselves  to  their  task  with  a  resolution 
and  tact  that  would  have  honored  a  professional. 
They  flitted  about  here  and  there  on  their  errands  of 
mercy,  hovering  over  the  cots  of  the  sick  and  the 
dying,  who  lay  watching  feebly  the  graceful  motions 
of  the  plainly-dressed,  white-capped  messengers  of 
love,  stammering  their  thanks  through  parched  lips 
or  with  hollow,  ghastly  eyes  begging  for  the  benison  of 
prayer. 

In  the  majority  of  cases  but  little  medicine  was 
required,  but  unremitting  labor.  After  a  few  practical 
lessons  from  the  Doctor,  they  proved  invaluable  in 
supplementing  the  physician's  work  in  the  various 
and  complicated  duties  that  met  them  there  :  the 
preparation  of  soups  and  broths,  the  ventilation  of 


264  TUB  OPAL  QUEEN. 

the  apartments,  the  making  of  the  beds,  and  above 
all  the  careful  watch  and  record  of  the  -changing 
symptoms  of  the  fever,  kept  their  eyes  and  hands  full 
of  blessed  ministries. 

To  Florence  Tete  there  was  much  of  romance  in 
her  preconceived  notions  of  nursing  the  sick.  But 
the  parlor  visions  of  administering  dainty  doses  to 
patients  with  an  interesting  pallor,  and  cooling 
fevered  brows  and  parched  lips,  were  illusions  easily 
dispelled  after  two  or  three  night-watches.  The 
picture  of  positive  distress  that  met  her  at  every 
turn ;  the  painful  twitch  ings  of  the  face,  the  grim 
contortions  of  muscle,  the  hard-featured  men  and 
women  who  made  them — these  were  the  painful 
aspects  from  which  all  sentiment  was  strained  save 
the  practical  one  of  an  active  and  tender  sympathy. 
Women  of  such  delicate  nerve  and  refinement,  all 
unused  to  the  sights  and  sounds  of  suffering,  would 
have  been  simply  a  picturesque  embarrassment  in 
such  a  place  had  not  duty  been  their  motto,  and  love 
burned  in  their  hearts.  Elise  found  her  sensitive 
spirit  shrinking  many  a  time,  and  had  she  not  been 
"  strong  in  the  Lord  "  could  not  have  endured  the 
strain  ;  and  Florence  Tete  was  strong — in  her  Queen. 

But  at  last  there  was  an  abatement — the  ravages 
of  the  fierce  destroyer  were  stayed  from  lack  of 
victims.  Those  who  had  been  tided  over  the  gulf 
were  on  the  road  to  recovery,  and  Doctor  Healey 
accepted  the  signals  of  his  release. 

Bertha  was  sent  in  advance  to  prepare  the  house 
after  their  six  weeks'  absence — and  the  others  fol- 
lowed, after  picking  up  the  odds  and  ends  of  a  heroic 
campaign  on  the  tented  field  of  Death. 

They  arrived  in  the  evening,  and  as  they  drove  up 
to  where  Lily  stood  with  open  arms  of  welcome — 

"  Halloo  !  Lily  !  "  cried  Doctor,  descrying  her  at 
the  door  in  a  tremor  of  glad  agitation.  "  Here  we 
are,  you  see  !  Not  a  feather  of  us  harmed  !  And 
these  girls,"  he  said,  tapping  them  on  the  shoulder, 
"  have  earned  their  stork-badsres !  But  for  this 


THE  PESTILENCE.  265 

little  woman,"  he  said,  embracing  her,  "  we  will 
give  three  cheers  for  the  bravest  woman  in  the 
crowd  ! — who  staid  at  home  a  martyr  to  the  agony 
of  silent  suspense  !  " 

"  Yours  was  by  far  the  hardest  lot,  dear,"  he 
whispered  in  her  ear. 

"  '  What  deeds  he  did  in  that  dark  town, 
What  hearts  lie  soothed  with  anguish  torn, 
What  weary  way;,  of  woe  he  trod, 
Are  written  in  the  Book  of  God, 
And  shall  be  read  at  Judgment  Morn.'  " 

Bright  lights  gleamed  in  the  "  palace,"  and  Elise's 
weary  steps  were  soon  attracted  to  her  own  roof- 
tree. 

As  she  stood  a  moment  in  the  library  doorway, 
and  raised  her  eyes  to  Heaven  in  fervent  thankful- 
ness for  her  gracious  return,  the  words  of  Bridget 
Flinn's  original  and  simple  eloquence  outlined  again 
her  portrait  with  striking  fidelity  :  — 

"  She  was  tall  and  she  was  beautiful  and  she  was 
dressed  all  in  black  and  the  folds  hung  down,  and 
there  was  a  look  of  heaven  in  her  face,  and  as  though 
she  was  saying  her  prayers  all  the  time." 

She  dropped  her  eyes — all  was  as  she  had  left  it. 
She  glanced  at  the  cosy  chairs  by  the  table  with 
its  rich  soft  lamp,  and — would  have  fallen  to  the 
floor  had  she  not  been  caught  in  strong,  manly 
arms. 

C banning  did  not  disturb  her  trance  of  blissful 
possession  ;  he  was  not  reluctant  to  prolong  a  slum- 
ber— dazed,  but  conscious  of  its  joy — against  a  beating 
heart  whose  hungry  yearnings  were  at  last  appeased. 

After  their  long  happy  talk,  Elise  exclaimed  with 
a  sober  tenderness  : 

"  But  dearest,  it  is " 

"  Yes,  Elise,"  he  interrupted,  "  it  is  October  ;  the 
grandest  month  in  all  the  year !  You  will  not  be 
troubled  now  with  your  burdens  shared,  my  darling. 
But  with  June  in  our '  hearts,  we  can  bear  the . 


266  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

benisons  and  malisons  of  every  month  in  the  year, 
and  crown  them  all  with  the  breath  of  the  Opal  month 
for  a  sweet  benediction." 

There  was  a  peal  of  wedding-bells,  and  a  ring  with 
this  inscription 

C.  E.  and  E.  A.    Els  f<r/^v., 
Oh  !  the  Goodness  of  God  ! 


THE  EXPLANATION.  267 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE   EXPLANATION. 

FREIBURG,  Aug.  15. 
DEAR  ART  : 

By  a  fatal  blunder,  a  letter  written  to  you  three 
weeks  ago  lies  still  in  my  drawer;  so  it  conies  to 
pass  that  instead  of  your  dignified  scrawl,  which  I 
was  proposing  to  decipher  in  the  near  future,  I  have 
the  aggravating  duty  of  recapitulation  and  another 
bout  on  paper  with  myself.  It  is  a  disquieting 
thought  to  me  that  my  best  friend  has  so  long  been 
standing  outside  the  portal,  without  even  the  chance 
of  pulling  a  beil  or  raising  a  knocker  for  admission 
into  the  apartment  dedicated  to  his  exclusive  use. 

That  unmitigated  blunder  which  1  thought  at 
the  time  a  most  astute  exhibition  of  executive  talent, 
opened  the  flood-gates  of  misery  upon  me,  their  law- 
ful but  innocent  victim.  But  I  am  keeping  you  in 
suspense,  and  will  not  prolong  the  biographical  por- 
traiture of  that  superlative  Mis-doing,  and  in  order 
to  be  sure,  I  will  drop  it  right  here,  take  up  the  nar- 
rative in  order,  and  let  the  Mis — unfold  herself  if  she 


can 


When  I  wrote  you  last  I  was  in  Heidelberg,  stroll- 
ing through  the  magnificent  ruins  on  the  Neckar, 
climbing  mountains  for  views,  and  scaling  (for  some 
of  them  are  to  be  reached  only  by  hundreds  of  steps) 
churches  for  pictures. 

I  made  my  way  south,  with  Swiss  lakes  and  Ber- 
nese Alps  for  picturesque  accompaniments  of  the 
journey  in  the  background. 

But  I  will  omit  all  detail  of  travel  in  this  letter 


2G8  THE  OPAL  qUEEN. 

and  hasten  to  give  you  the  episode  of  the  epic  which 
fate,  or,  to  speak  more  reverently,  Providence,  has 
been  weaving  around  me,  and  into  which  I  have  been 
forced  an  unwilling  actor — indeed,  quorum  pars 
maynafui,  as  saiih  the  poet. 

1  reached  Freiburg,  after  three  months  of  delight- 
ful but  rapid  touring  in  Italy  and  Switzerland,  one 
scorching  day  in  the  beginning  of  September,  hot, 
dusty,  weary,  crabbed  (my  soloistic  excursion  proving 
not  at  all  genial),  desiring  only  a  bath  and  a  bed.  I 
found  both  in  comfortable  quarters,  enrolled  myself 
next  day  at  the  School  of  Mines  (I  was  fortunate  in 
arriving  at  the  opening),  and  buckled  on  the  armor 
for  a  tough  fight,  inasmuch  as  I  purposed  to  accom- 
plish double  work  and  in  half  the  allotted  time.  I 
had  examined  the  curriculum,  and  knew  I  could  do 
it  by  diligent  perseverance. 

I  pushed  the  study  with  a  grip  like  iron  for  five 
solid  months,  and  then — well,  I  made  the  mistake  of 
supposing  my  constitution  was  also  iron,  but  when  J 
awoke  one  April  morning  to  life  once  more,  I  dis- 
covered only  a  few  relics  of  phosphate  of  lime  as 
supporters  of  this  "house  I  live  in,"  supplanting  the 
ideal  iron  frame-work  of  my  fancy. 

A  rack  of  bones — that  is  all  I  was,  Art — in  which 
you  never  could  have  detected  the  person  you  used 
facetiously  to  term  your  blooming  athlete. 

And,  what  was  more,  my  premises  had  also  changed 
their  fashion  and  their  material.  It  was  plain,  even 
to  the  weak  sight  and  fugitive  glances  of  a  sick  man, 
that  I  was  in  a  lady's  boudoir.  There  were  her  dainty 
work -basket  and  all  the  numberless  pictures — aesthetic 
botherations — on  the  bureau  that  set  a  man  wild— 
not  a  sick  man,  you  understand,  to  whom  every  article 
was  a  speculative  morsel  of  just  the  quantity  and 
quality  to  stimulate  a  weak  brain  and  give  it  a 
relishing  feast — but  a  knockiug-about-fellow  who 
ignores  knick-knacks  and  rejoices  in  room  and  free- 
dom. 

Well,  where  was  the  fairy  of  this  enchanted  land? 


THE  EXPLANATION.  269 

my  dazed  mind  asked;  and  just  as  in  the  fairy 
stories,  at  that  moment  there  entered  a  graceful 
looking  woman,  with  an  indescribable  charm  of 
expression  on  passable  features.  She  spoke — and 
her  voice  was  like  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

"My  dear  friend,"  she  said,  clasping  my  hand 
and  looking  into  my  face  with  that  rapturous  "ex- 
pression, "  we  are  so  glad  to  have  you  with  .us 
once  more." 

My  eyes  were  still  fastened  on  her,  and  I  knew 
not  what  to  say,  but  stammered  out  a  low  inquiry 
about  having  been  ill. 

"Very  ill,"  she  replied.  ""We  thought  we 
should  lose  you;  but  now,"  and  her  face \vas  all 
smiles,  "you  are  quite  out  of  danger,  and  we  are 
going  to  have  you  well  again  in  short  meter." 

"But  who  are  you  and  who  are  we?"  I  ven- 
tured to  ask,  slowly. 

"  We  are  " — and  she  made  a  motion  as  if  intro- 
ducing some  one  at  her  side — "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Han- 
son, your  servants,  sir;"  and  she  made  a  little 
obeisance;  "and  we  are  also,"  she  continued,  per- 
cejving  the  unsatisfied  look  of  my  eye,  "your 
regularly  installed  nurses,  subject  to  the  physician's 
orders." 

She  administered  some  drops  and  left  me,  urging 
sleep  and  quiet,  and  said  the  pretty  little  mystery 
should  be  unraveled  as  soon  as  I  got  a  little  more 
used  to  life. 

And  now,  dear  Art.,  comes  the  only  genuine  ro- 
nuince  of  my  history.  I  shall  .give  you  only  the 
outlines,  and  leave  the  filling  and  shading  for  one 
of  those  quiet  talks  that  I  hope  is  in  store  for  us 
before  very  long. 

It  seems,  that  oppressed  with  the  extra  labors  I 
had  imposed  upon  myself,  nature  gave  way  under 
the  strain  without  apprising  me  of  her  intentions 
(the  sneak-thief  !) — but  I  forbear,  I  had  injured  her, 
and  such  retaliation  was  a  retribution  for  my  abuse 


270  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

and  I  fell  in  the  street,  was  picked  up  by  officers, 
who  carried  me  to  the  hospital.  There  Mrs.  Hanson, 
in  her  daily  ministrations  in  the  ward  where  my  cot 
lay  (a  labor  of  love  on  her  part),  came  across  me. 
She  was  so  attracted  by  my  English  face,  and  so  im- 
pressed with  its  noble  refinement  (I  use  her  words) 
and  the  desperateness  of  my  situation  (it  was  the 
only  way  my  poor  spirit  had  to  impress  her  while  I 
was  shrouded  away  in  the  curtains  of  delirium),  that 
she  decided  to  have  me  removed  to  her  own  home  as 
soon  as  practicable.  Moreover  the  doctor  had  noti- 
fied her  that  my  life  hung  upon  a  thread,  and  unless 
there  was  the  most  vigilant  nursing  it  would,  inevi- 
tably fall  into  the  chasm. 

The  change  was  managed  with  the  greatest  caution 
and  skill — she  gave  me  all  the  particulars — and  the 
Professor  (who,  by  the  way,  I  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  in  the  school,  but  who  did  not  know 
who  liis  wife's  patient  was  until  I  was  in  his  house) 
and  his  wife,  relieved  by  one  attendant,  have  watched 
my  critical  case,  and  brought  me  thus  far  on  the  road 
to  health.  Oh  !  the  goodness  of  God!  "Oh,  that 
men  would  praise  Him  for  His  wonderful  works  unto 
the  children  of.  men  !  "  Let  us  be  content  in  the 
rims  He  puts  us  in  ! 

And  it  turns  out,  best  of  all — no,  I  will  retract 
that,  for  the  best  of  all  is  that  I  am  an  existent  fact 
— but  it  turns  out  second  best,  that  we  have  mu- 
tual friends,  Professor  and  Mrs.  Hanson  being  well 
acquainted  with  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Healey  -  and 
Miss  Archer.  Lilian,  as  she  calls  her,  is,  in  fact, 
an  intimate  friend,  and  I  just  call  to  mind  now  an 
allusion  I  once  heard  those  ladies  make  to  M— 
Springs  and  Louise  Osborne.  I  had  often  Iteard  of 

Louise  Osborne  and  M Springs,  but  the  thought 

did  not  occur  to  me  to  classify  Mrs.  Hanson  in  that 
department. 

The  illness  was  a  violent  attack  of  Roman-fever 
seeds  planted  in  Rome,  and  burrowing  in  my  system 
from  the  time  I  arrived,  parched  and  dusty  that  hot 


THE  EXPLANATION.  271 

September  night.  It  made  frightful  ravages  in  my 
system  with  its  delirious  and  nerve-eating  tooth. 
Then  the  convalescence,  in  which  state  I  now  am 
— but  I  refer  to  the  early  convalescence  more  es- 
pecially— was  tedious,  and  beset  with  relapses  and 
disappointments.  But  at  last  I  am  looking  forward 
to  a  leave-taking  here  and  a  hand-shaking  over  the 
"bright  blue  sea"  in  a  very  few  weeks. 

As  I  began  to  grow  better  I  longed  for  my  old 
occupation  ;  I  had  dandled  that  plaything  of  a  pen  so 
long  it  had  really  become  a  pet,  and  I  could  not  do 
without  it. 

During  the  hours  of  convalescence,  the  cacoethes 
scribendi  fit  came  over  me,  and  I  indulged  in  a  paper 
on  current  topics.  The  Professor  and  the  journals 
kept  me  posted,  and  my  observation  of  the  inner 
working  of  the  "  machine  "  when  I  was  alive  and 
afloat  enabled  me  to  put  in  the  genus  loci.  I 
sent  it  to  the  London  Telegraph,  and  it  was  re- 
ceived so  favorably  (I  reckon  appreciation  now  by 
the  pound  sterling),  and  I  find  my  acquired  taste  so 
strong,  that  I  have  concluded  to  adopt  the  pen  as  my 
fighting  gear  for  life's  battle — am  collecting  material, 
in  fact,  for  my  first  book.  The  title  may  give  you 
some  notion  of  its  scope  and  meaning:  Religion  vs. 
Culture.  I  feel,  indeed,  like  a  bundle  of  cocoons  in- 
side of  an  indefinite  quantity  of  raw  material  that 
only  needs  to  be  unwrapped,  carded,  spun  and 
dyed,  to  make  the  long  threads  of  novel  and  ro- 
mance. Of  course  there  is  the  weaving ;  and  if  you 
wish  a  Gobelin  you  must  be  an  artist,  and  a  skilled 
artisan  if  you  require  only  Axminster.  Well,  let  us 
try  both,  Horatio! 

It  was  a  source  of  unmitigated  grief  to  me  that 
Pater  and  all  the  "saints"  in  the  dear  old  "Rest" 
were  kept  so  long  in  suspense  without  any  tidings  ot 
me.  But  I  was  a  month  nowhere — leastwise,  in.  the 
vernacular  of  our  Irish  brethren,  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  furnish  my  number  and  street  in  that  border- 
land of  delusive  vagaries  ;  and  then,  with  a  strange 


272  THE  OPAL  Q  UEEN. 

fatality,  when,  in  the  plenitude  of  her  goodness,  Mrs. 
Hanson  offered  to  write  a  line  for  me,  and  said  she 
would  have  done  it  before  if  she  had  known  an  ad- 
dress, I  stupidly  directed  to  the  old  place,  and  it 
lay  in  the  office,  through  the  carelessness  of  the 
official,  some  time  before  it  was  forwarded. 

The  blunder  that  I  referred  to  in  the  early  part  of 
this  letter  was  in  locking  up  all  my  letters,  and  not 
having  one  about  my  person  as  a  clue  or  a  guide 
when  1  was  non  est,  so  to  speak. 

Mrs.  Hanson  naively  remarked  : 

"  I  searched  your  pockets  thoroughly,  even  at  the 
hospital,  before  we  brought  you  here,  for  I  knew  you 
were  somebody's  darling,  and  I  wanted  the  dear 
mother  to  know  that  you  were  in  the  care  of  friends 
— for  ought  not  life  to  be  a  brotherhood?  "  she  said 
sweetly ;  and  then,  with  a  most  touching  pathos : 
"  We  try  to  make  it  so." 

And  they  succeed,  Art.  The  gentle  Christian  in- 
fluence radiating  from  this  little  family -centre,  time 
will  feel,  but  eternity  alone  can  measure. 

I  have  written  this,  my  dear  friend,  at  intervals, 
and  so  the  date  on  the  opening  sheet  is  passed  by. 
But,  God  willing,  I  shall  be  with  you  very  soon,  dear 
old  chum,  and  give  you  all  the  missing  links  of  my 
heroic  poem  (is  it  not?)  and  addenda. 

You  will  also  have  a  tremendous  budget  to  open 
in  the  hearing  of  this  now  sitting  court.  Having 
compared  notes  and  experiences,  if  we  are  not  both 
nearer  the  only  true  goal  worth  our  living,  it  will  be 
because  we  are  batten-heads  that  are  scarcely  worth 
the  punching.  But,  whatever  I  may  prove  to  be,  you 
will  not  doubt  that  I'  am  ever, 

Yours  affectionately, 

CHANNING. 

P.  S. — That  beautiful  dissolving-view,  Dresson,  is 
still  extant,  patching  up  his  manhood  "abroad" — I 
was  about  to  say  ;  but  not  wishing  to  be  too  hard 
on  him,  I  will  amend  by  substituting  veneering  for 


THE  EXPLANATION.  273 

patching,  which  might  be  considered  oy  some  an 
offensive  word  in  the  connection. 

I  ran  across  him  one  day  in  the  Ufizzi  Gallery  in 
Florence,  where  he  was  idly  standing  at  what,  I  con- 
fess, was,  in  its  way,  worth  the  eyesight  spent  on  it. 
I  found  myself  similarly  magnetized. 

In  the  "  Tribune  " — which  contains  the  gems  of 
the  gallery,  most  of  them  Raphael's  best  pictures — 
upon  one  side-wall,  hung  about  five  feet  from  the 
floor,  was  the  beautiful  portrait  of  Fornarina,  Ra- 
phael's sweetheart,  painted  by  himself.  A  little  to 
the  left  and  in  front  stood  an  easel,  upon  which  was 
a  faithful  copy  of  this  portrait,  upon  which  a  lady 
(sitting  upon  some  high,  portable  steps,  which  thus 
brought  her  face  upon  a  level  with  the  original  she 
was  copying)  who  was  the  fac-simile  of  Raphael's 
Fornarina,  was  putting  the  last  finishing  touches. 
You  may  imagine  that  it  was  a  striking  group. 
Three  faces  almost  identical  looking  at  you  from  the 
wall — swimming  around  in  your  retina  with  the  pre- 
cision of  the  lens's  reproductive  powers,  in  such  truth- 
ful confusion  that  now  you  thought  they  were  all 
dead, and  anon  were  sure  that  they  were  all  alive,  as 
imagination  bridged  the  space  and  blended  the  cen- 
turies. 

You  will  not  wonder  that  a  number  of  bystanders 
were  attracted  by  the  novel  sight,  and  eagerly  watch- 
ing for  such  turn  of  the  artist's  head  as  should  give 
them  better  sight  from  their  respective  positions  of 
the  flesh-and-blood  picture,  which  they  were  compar- 
ing with  the  original  Fornarina.  It  seemed  as  though 
she  must  have  stepped  out  of  the  very  walls  to  lend 
a  hand  to  the  undertaking. 


THE    QPAL    QUEEN. 


PART  SECOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 
LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE. 

DEAR  ARTHUR  : 

The  pupils  in  prospect-urn  of  Professor  Monboddo 
were  in  a  high  state  of  excitement,  yesterday,  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  delivery  of  his  first  lecture.  Indeed, 
the  whole  village  is  more  or  less  stirred  up  about  the 
new  enterprise.  Wit  and  ridicule  circulate  freely  at_ 
the  expense  of  the  embryo  authors,  but  at  bottom 
they  wish  the  Professor  success,  for  many  have  seen 
him  and  heard  his  benign,  fatherly  talk,  and  declare, 
with  a  wise  shake  of  the  head,  that  there  is  "some- 
thing in  him  out  of  the  common." 

My  own  curiosity  was,  I  confess,  intense.  Im- 
pelled, not  so  much  by  my  own  convictions,  as  by 
the  home-coterie,  I  sought  the  Professor's  lecture- 
room,  secretly  determining  to  withdraw  my  connec- 
tion at  the  close  of  the  lecture,  if  it  was  assumed 
that  my  presence,  per  se,  impressed  me  into  student- 
life.  But  by  Dox,  Art,  Monboddo  was  too  much  for 
me  !  I  discovered  (with  humiliation  in  one  sense) 
that,  nolens  volens,  I  must  take  up  the  craft. 

"  What  sort  of  balderdash  is  this  ?  "  I  hear  you 


276  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

say ;  "  is  a  man's  free  agency  suddenly  suspended  in 
the  hitherto  liberal,  even  radical  village  of  Brent- 
ville  ?  " 

It  sounds,  I  own,  paradoxical,  but  be  patient,  my 
long-suffering  Art,  and  time  will  solve  the  riddle. 
(And  now,  since  you  apologize  so  humbly  for  the 
interruption,  I  will  continue  the  narrative.) 

I  found  I  was  a  fixture  for  three  terms,  at  least — 
not  exactly  that  my  free-agency  was  suspended  or 
destroyed,  but  that  my  moral  nature  was  in  the 
ascendency  and  declined  to  guide  me  contrary  to 
the  Professor's  wishes. 

Imagine  a  room,  about  thirty  feet  by  fifty,  filled 
with  fellows  on  benches,  and  a  variegated  border  of 
the  fair  sex,  about  three  deep,  all  around.  Precisely 
at  the  stroke  of  ten  from  a  clock  in  the  hall,  every 
eye  was  turned  to  an  opening  door  on  the  platform, 
in  which  appeared  the  classical  figure  of  the  Pro- 
fessor, smiling  and  bowing,  until  he  reached  the 
desk  near  the  front  of  the  stage ;  then,  with  a  pro- 
found and  dignified  genuflexion,  he  greeted  his  au- 
dience in  the  most  musically  sonorous  accents  that 
ever  went  skyward. 

Now  you  are  not  to  think  that  this  dSbut  was  after 
the  manner  of  a  French  dancing-master,  and  that  he 
came  tripping  in  with  a  fawning  smile  on  his  lips. 
On  the  contrary,  while  there  was  grace  in  every 
movement,  there  were  no  "airs,"  as  we  term  them, 
no  flourishes,  no  superfluities  of  any  kind,  in  dress, 
gesture,  or  speech.  The  face,  the  carriage,  each  un- 
studied attitude,  created  an  atmosphere  around  the 
man  of  transparent  sincerity  and  purity.  Before  he 
opened  his  mouth,  we  were  learning  lessons.  The 
inference  we  so  often  draw  from  those  words  in  the 
Gospel  -  "  He  opened  His  mouth  and  taught  them  " 
—of  Christ's  power  to  teach  without  speaking,  purely 
by  His  personality,  was  strikingly  exemplified  in  this 
teacher. 

I  ought  to  describe  him  to  you,  as,  with  your  pres- 
ent influx  of  clients,  there  is  no  hope  of  your  seeing 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  277 

him  for  yourself  ;  but  I  feel  inadequate  to  the  task. 
Of  course,  I  can  make  a  conventional  cut  of  him, 
but  the  spirit  of  the  man  as  it  shines  in  his  face  and 
through  his  whole  person  is  beyond  expression  in 
words. 

Fully  six  feet  in  height,  he  stands  erect,  with 
something  of  a  military  bearing;  his  square  shoulders 
support  a  head  more  high  than  round,  crowned  witli 
luxuriant  gray  hair  that  stands  in  a  rolling  wave 
back  from  his  massive  forehead.  I  said  gray,  but  it 
is  the  golden  gray  that  in  the  bleachery  of  age  will 
soon  be  silvery  white,  and  in  certain  lights  it  gleams 
like  an  aureole  about  his  venerable  head.  His  face 
is  of  a  Greek  cast,  and  his  dress  the  Greek  costume, 
which  admits  of  free  and  easy  movements  of  the 
body,  and  is  a  hygienic  improvement  upon  our  bands 
and  buckles  and  strictures  of  various  kinds.  The 
Professor  recommends  the  dress  to  his  pupils,  I  un- 
derstand (I  have  heard  nothing  officially),  and  I,  for 
one,  shall  be  glad  to  adopt  this  innovation. 

The  subject  was  up  for  discussion  this  morning  at 
the  breakfast-table — that  is  how  my  thoughts  happen 
to  run  on  it  just  now — and  I  may  as  well  inform 
you,  in  conclusion  of  this  branch  of  the  subject,  that 
"Superba"  is  immensely  in  favor  of  it,  declares  it 
both  sensible  and  aesthetic,  "  and  what  more  would 
you  have  ?  "  she  very  pertinently  inquires.  So  you 
can  easily  guess  what  the  present  generation  is  com- 
ing to  (or  going  back  to,  for  the  next  step  will 
doubtless  be  the  patriarchal  simplicity  of  flowing 
mantles  and  sandals),  as  woman  is  the  autocrat  in 
affairs  of  dress. 

I  come  now  to  the  lecture  proper.  And  here  I 
am  glad,  both  for  your  sake  and  mine,  that  I  have 
the  art  of  stenography  well  in  hand,  for  I  can  thus 
preserve  what  is  valuable  in  these  lectures  for  subse- 
quent study,  and  shall  take  pleasure  in  sending  them, 
to  you  for  perusal  and  comment  (if  you  care  to  keep 
up  with  the  march  of  my  improvement)  when  the 
interest  seems  to  justify  me  in  such  a  proceeding. 


278  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

So,  dear  old  chum,  shall  we  keep  life's  links  still 
united  in  the  making  up  of  my  career.  But  alas  ! 
how  selfish  is  all  this  planning  when  you  and  your 
pursuits  will  not,  on  the  other  hand,  be  reproduced 
in  my  life  !  For  I  see,  by  the  necessities^  of  the  case, 
you  can't,  by  any  known  process  upon  which  the 
word  honor  can  be  inscribed,  let  me  into  the  secrets 
of  your  profession. 

Well,  sic  vita  est ;  ijrst  on  one  side  and  then  on 
t'other! — and  I  am  sensible  of  Fortune's  favor  in  put- 
ting the  contribution  for  the  nonce,  on  the  side  of 
Yours  faithfully, 

CHANNING  EARLE. 

P.  S. — The  manuscript  will  accompany  this  letter. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  FIRST  EXAMINATION.      279 


CHAPTER  II. 

PROFESSOR  MONBODDO'S  FIRST  "  EXAMINATION  " — 
DISCUSSION  OF  THE  PHRASE  u  LADIES  AND  GEN- 
TLEMEN " — SCHOOL  FOR  AUTHORS  AND  JOURNAL- 
ISTS. 

GENTLEMEN  AND  LADIES  : 

"  As  it  has  been  the  aim  of  my  life  to  present  truth, 
I  have  not  presumed  to  compromise  it  at  the  outset 
of  this  enterprise  by  the  use  of  phraseology  which 
shall  convey  or  imply  a  falsehood,  even  though  that 
phraseology  be  sanctioned  by  custom  and  made  sacred 
by  time.  I  assume,  by  your  presence,  that  for  the 
present,  at  least,  the  pursuit  of  truth  is  your  aim  and 
the  suitable  presentation  of  it  the  object  of  your 
study.  It  becomes  us,  therefore,  to  inquire  into  the 
reason  for  the  form  of  address  I  have  just  used,  and 
to  decide  if  it  be  the  one  best  adapted  for  mixed 
assemblies. 

"  There  is  a  certain  manner  of  greeting  an  audience, 
prescribed  for  the  speaker  by  custom,  with  which  you 
are  all  familiar. 

"  Tell  me,  Chserephon,  if  you  discover  any  flattery 
in  Burns's  celebrated  lines  : 

"  '  Her  'prentice  hand  she  tried  on  man, 
An'  then  she  made  the  lassies,  0  ! '  " 

"Indeed,  Ulysses,  that  has  long  been  my  private 
opinion." 

"But  perhaps  you  will  admit,  Chserephon,  that 
there  is  one  grain  of  truth  concealed  in  the  chaff  ?  " 


280  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"I  am  willing  to  concede  Ulysses  that  the  true 
underlying  thought  of  the  lilies  according  to  popular 
intrepretation,  is  the  superiority  of  the  '  lassie  '  in 
finished -workmanship,  but  that  she  is  on  that  account 
entitled  to  precedence  over  the  'lad'  I  am  unwilling 
to  grant." 

"  But,  Chserephon,  in  the  works  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  among  the  brute  creation  where  do  we  find 
evidence  of  the  most  skill  and  sagacity — in  the 
rhinoceros  with  its  bulky,  unmanageable  frame,  or  the 
bee  with  its  delicate  wings  and  sensitive  antennae  ?" 

"  In  the  bee  without  doubt,  Ulysses  ;  for  in  the 
bee's  productions  we  have  not  only  a  storehouse  for 
honey,  but  the  fine  art  of  architecture  and  a  problem 
in  mathematics." 

"And  do  you  think,  Chserephon,  that  the  hum- 
ming-bird with  its  variegated  plumage  and  finely 
woven  hanging-nest  is  inferior  to  the  buzzard  that 
with  all  its  strength  makes  no  use  of  it,  either  for 
providing  a  home  for  its  young  or  for  storing  up  its 
daily  food  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  Ulysses  ;  but  do  you  not  see  that 
the  humming-bird  and  the  turkey-buzzard  are  dis- 
tinct classes,  while  man  and  woman  belong  to  the 
same  ? '' 

"But  I  am  prompted  to  remind  you,  Chserephon, 
that  the  female  of  the  humming-bird  makes  the  nest, 
and  raises  her  young." 

"  Among  brutes  do  }rou  consider  those  that  can 
render  service  to  mankind  the  most  valuable  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,  this  is  true,  Ulysses." 

"  It  would,  therefore,  seem  that  the  horse,  which 
carries  our  daily  burdens,  is  more  valuable  than  the 
lion,  which  can  contribute  only  one  skin,  no  matter 
how  long  he  lives?" 

"  This  also  seems  true,  Ulysses." 

"  And  in  the  development  of  our  nature,  Chsere- 
phon, is  it  of  the  first  importance  to  supply  the  wants 
of  the  body?" 

"  Unquestionably,  Ulysses,  for  if  we  do  not  pre- 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  FIRST  EXAMINATION.  .  281 

serve  our  bodies,  we  shall  have  no  intelligence  to  take 
cognizance  of  our  spirits." 

"  Which  then,  Cheerephon,  do  you  consider  the 
more  valuable,  the  female  nightingale,  who  weaves 
her  nest  and  raises  her  young,  or  her  mate,  who  sits 
and  warbles  the  whole  night  through?" 

"  It  seems  clear  to  me  that  the  male  bird*  who  en- 
trances mankind  with  his  melodies,  must  be  con- 
sidered the  more  valuable." 

"  Have  you  never  heard,  then,  that  nightingales' 
tongues  make  an  excellent  dish,  and  that  they  are 
said  to  impart  a  delicious  tone  to  the  voice  of  singers? 
— and  are  you  not  aware  that  this  bird's  nest  is  a 
great  delicacy  for  food  in  China?" 

'•  I  have  so  heard,  Ulysses,  and  will  retract,  there- 
fore, what  I  have  said,  it'  I  may  be  permitted  to  do 
so  ;  for  it  is  evident  that  the  female  nightingale  is  the 
more  valuable,  as  she  contributes  most  to  the  bodily 
wants  of  mankind." 

"And  if  the  mother  bird,  who  builds  her  nest  and 
rears  her  young,  "be  more  valuable,  does  it  not  follow, 
by  the  same  process  of  reasoning,  Chserephon,  that 
the  mother  of  men,  who  brings  up  children,  orders 
the  affairs  of  her  household,  and  makes  it  possible  to 
have  'homes'  in  the  midst  of  large  communities 
as  well  as  in  the  wildest  desert,  is  more  valuable 
to  mankind  than  the  father,  who  has  not  these 
instincts?  " 

"  I  seem  to  say  so,  Ulysses,  but  I  appear  to  myself 
to  say  this  I  know  not  how.  Be  assured,  however, 
that  I  feel  convinced  that  I  must  acknowledge  the 
'  lassie  '  of  the  highest  value,  but  as  to  whether  she 
shall  therefore  be  considered  the  superior,  I  look  to 
you  for  information,  if  you  will  kindly  impart  it  to 
me." 

"  Would  it  seem,  then,  that  men  are  of  your 
opinion  when  they  say,  addressing  an  audience  com- 
posed of  both  sexes  :  '  Ladies  and  gentlemen  '  ?" 

"It  would,  indeed,  Ulysses,  but  it  may  be  only 
indicative  of  that  courtesy  which  man,  as  the 


282  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

stronger,  ought  always  to  extend  to  the  weaker  sex." 

"  For  my  part,  I  frankly  avow  myself  filled  with 
loyal  devotion  to  the  fair  sex,  and  ready  to  concede 
to  her  any  position  founded  in  justice.  But,  Clito, 
how  say  you,  ought  truth  to  be  sacrificed  to  error?" 

"Unquestionably  not,  Ulysses." 

"  And  -is  it  possible  for  that  to  be  true  which  to- 
day holds  out  one  thing  as  most  desirable,  and  to- 
morrow that  which  is  exactly  opposite  or  differs  from 
it  materially  ?  '' 

"  It  is  impossible,  Ulysses,  for  one  of  the  first  con- 
ditions of  truth  is,  that  it  is  founded  on  principles 
which  are  as  immovable  as  the  rocky  mountain." 

"  But  does  nob  Fashion,  with  its  freaks  and 
caprices,  tell  us  many  lies,  Clito  ?  " 

"  She  does,  indeed,  Ulysses,  as  when  she  makes  a 
complexion  with  cosmetics,  or  bows  low  before  an 
unworthy  king." 

"And  do  not  punctilios  of  ceremony  lose  their 
value  when  based  on  falsehood  ?  " 

"  It  appears  so  to  me,  I  must  confess,  Ulysses." 

"  Are  you  not  aware,  Clito,  that  in  a  former  age 
the  woman  was  placed  last  or  ignored  altogether  in  a 
public  address,  because  she  was  not  supposed  to  have 
an  existence  outside  of  the  circle  of  her  home?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  as  you  say,  Ulysses." 

"  Then,  since  we  should  recognize  justice  before 
any  other  quality  in  formal  procedures  as  well  as  in 
the  smallest  affairs  of  life,  is  it  not  clearly  wrong  to 
adopt  a  phrase  because  shifting  etiquette  ordains  it? 
—an  etiquette,  too,  that  is  based  upon  what  all  will 
allow  is  disputed  truth,  and  most  will  condemn  as 
falsehood  ?  " 

"  You  say  the  truth  in  that  respect  also,  Ulysses  ; 
and  I  am  persuaded  that  we  should  have  a  form  of 
address  founded  upon  truth,  which  will  then  not  be 
at  the  mercy  of  fashion — but  I  have  no  counsel  to 
offer  upon  the  subject,  and  shall  hope  that  you  will 
suggest  to  us  a  remedy  for  the  evil." 

"I  deny,  sir,"  said  Nicomachides,  an  impetuous  but 


THE  PROFESSORS  FIRST  EXAMINATION.     283 

careless  youth,  whose  thoughts  had  been  wandering 
in  the  "  variegated  border,"  "that  man  is  inferior  tp 
woman — the  phrase  is  simply  used  for  courtesy." 

"  But  is  not  that  inferiority  assumed,  when  we  ad- 
dress the  fair  sex  first,  Nicomachides  ?  " 

"  This  I  am  unwilling  to  admit,  Ulysses." 
•  "Well,  then,  if,  as  you  say,  she  takes  that  rank 
only  for  courtesy's  sake,  what  is  it  but  saying,  in  one 
and  the  same  breath,  that  she  is  and  she  is  not 
worthy  of  such  precedence?  Now  she  either  is,  or 
she  is  not,  worthy  of  that  honor.  If  she  is,  does  not 
consistency  require  us  to  yield  it  to  her,  not  only 
then,  but  always  ?  " 

"  If  she  is,  Ulysses,  what  you  say  is  undoubtedly 
true." 

"  And  if  she  is  intrinsically  worthy  of  the  prefer- 
,ence,  no  chances  or  changes  of  time  can  divest  her 
of  her  rank.  And  if  she  may  hold  it  in  the  public 
social  assembly  by  right  of  merit,  by  what  logic  can 
you  complain  if  she,  acting  upon  the  privileges  of  her 
position,  presume  to  exercise  her  rights  in  that  larger 
political  assemblage,  where  officers  are  chosen  for  the 
state?" 

"  But  this  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  for 
discourse  upon  the  much-vexed  question  of  woman 
suffrage." 

"  But  in  these  days  of  the  acknowledged  equality 
of  the  sexes,"  observed  the  beautiful  Tljeodosia,  who 
had  been  quietly  awaiting  the  opportunity  to  cham- 
pion her  sex,  "  when  neither  claims  superiority,  and 
both  stand  upon  the  same  level  of  talent,  intellect, 
genius  and  taste,  and  even  of  executive  ability,  why 
should  any  form  of  address  be  recognized  in  which 
one  outranks  the  other — even  if  it  be  only  a  social 
and  transparent  fiction?" 

"  Then  shall  we  consider  how  to  avoid  mistakes  in 
this  matter,  Theodosia?" 

"  This,  indeed,  is  my  desire,  Ulysses." 

"  Rhetorically  considered,  the  members  of  asentence 
forming  a  series  admit  of  precisely  opposite  arrange- 


284  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

merits  without  change  of  meaning.  The  climax  re-" 
quires  the  members  to  grow  in  importance  in  the 
order  of  their  enumeration,  commencing  with  the 
weakest  and  ending  with  the  strongest — as  when  in 
the  description  of  an  orator  we  say,  '  A  word  from 
his  lips  might  turn  their  hearts,  might  influence  their 
passions,  might  change  their  opinions,  might  affect 
their  destiny ; '  or  when  the  zealous  patriot  cries, 
'  My  country,  my  whole  country,  and  nothing  but 
my  country !  ' 

"  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  the 
anti-climax  is  the  preferred  form  of  address,  as  when 
we  say :  '  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen!'  Now,  in  this 
case,  power  is  inherent,  patent,  acknowledged;  rank 
has  its  fixed  values  and  cannot  be  questioned,  so  that 
no  misunderstanding  could  arise  as  to  superiority  if 
the  phrasing  should  be,  '  Gentlemen -and  Lords  !  '- 
and  yet,  under  the  power  of  usage — long  usage  and 
longer  and  deeper  self-love — this  heraldic  synonym 
for  wealth  and  power  silently  asserts  it«  claims  to 
pre-eminence,  and  the  world  graciously  labels  it 
1  courtesy,'  when  the  only  element  of  courtesy  con- 
tained in  it  is  due  to  the  presumable  preponderance 
of  its  aged  members. 

"  Rhetoric,  therefore,  does  not  relieve  our  embar- 
rassment. If  we  return  to  usage,  we  find,  still  cling- 
ing to  us,  a  form  belonging  to  the  soi-disant  days  of 
woman's  acknowledged  inferiority.  The  '  lords  of 
creation  '  could  afford  to  be  knightly  to  the  so-called 
weaker  sex,  and  give  them  the  protecting  aegis  of 
their  shadow.  They  emulated  the  serene  dignity,  the 
unchallenged  power  of  the  titled  lords,  they  would 
excel  them  in  urbanity  and  gracious  condescension, 
so  it  was  '  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  ; '  so  it  is  to-day. 

"  A  strange  anachronism  outgrown  by  the  social 
polity  of  this  new  century,  a  tennis-ball  in  the  hands 
of  rhetoric,  it  is  sanctioned,  not  of  reason,  but  of 
habit.  Suppose  we  cap  our  habit  with  reason,  that 
the  resemblance  to  a  'tailor's  dummy,' be  less  striking 
and  endeavor  at  the  same  time  to  secure  both  the 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  FIRST  EXAMINATION.     285 

truth  and  the  proprieties.  The  solution  is  easy,  the 
conclusion  satisfactory. 

"That  the  majority  rules  is  a  fundamental  principle 
in  our  governmental  policy — no  maxim  is  of  greater 
force  in  our  republican  institutions ;  so  we  will  stand 
on  this  broad,  this  equitable  basis — numbers  shall 
regulate  precedence  ;  in  no  other  way  can  we  balance 
an  aggregation  of  equalities.  Favored  by  the  devia- 
tions of  costume  in  the  sexes,  the  speaker,  with  a 
glance  of  his  eye,  c'an  decide  the  momentous  question 
and  address  his  audience  according  to  its  report. 

"  With  the  progress  of  time,  if  our  acquaintance 
ripens  into  friendship,  I  may  be  indulged  in  the  free- 
dom of  a  word  of  deeper  significance,  and  then  it 
will  be  my  privilege  and  my  pleasure  to  give  you 
without  presumption  that  rarest  of  titles : 

"  Friends." 


"  What  say  you,  Cebes,  is  this  a  progressive  age  in 
which  we  live?" 

"  Without  doubt,  Ulysses,  since  Art  seems  almost 
ubiquitous,  as  she  sits  enthroned  amidst  our  varie'd 
industries,  and  sovereign  Science  stretches  his  scepter 
over  the  globe." 

"In  view,  then,  of  the  fact  that  good  work  is  the 
result  of  good  instruction,  would  you  assume,  Cebes, 
— even  if  you  were  a  traveler  from  another  sphere — 
that  some  institutions  must  exist  which  had  been 
organized  for  special  development  in  the  multifarious 
departments  of  these  arts  and  sciences  ?  " 

"  This  would  assuredly  be  a  correct  conclusion, 
Ulysses." 

"  And  in  a  state,  believing  in  a  monotheistic  religion 
and  a  gospel  publishing  a  salvation  free  to  all,  would 
you  also  expect  to  see  institutions  for  the  education 
of  teachers  of  morals  and  Christianity  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Ulysses  ;  and  what  a  multitude  of 
theological  schools  there  are  in  our  land,  as  well  as 


Tim  OPAL  QUEEN. 

schools  for  training  lawyers,  doctors,  teachers,  artists, 
dentists,  nurses,  cooks — in  fact,  I  think  every  depart- 
ment of  physical  and  mental  labor  has  its  nursery 
and  an  organized  system  of  higher  instruction,for  all 
desiring  to  become  proficient  in  the  studies  connected 
with  it." 

"But  you  have  omitted  from  your  list,  Cebes, 
one  vital  department.  Is  it  possible,  then,  that  in  all 
our  broad  land  no  school  can  be  found  for  training 
men  of  letters — journalists  and  authors? — no  institu- 
tion where  book-making  can  be  studied  as  an  art  with 
a  view  towards  making  it  a  profession?" 

"  This  is  indeed  the  melancholy  truth,  Ulysses."  * 

"  Do  you  call  the  products  of  human  skill  and 
ingenuity  wrought  by  the  activity  of  fingers, works  of 
art,  Cebes?" 

"  They  are  usually  so  considered,  Ulysses." 

"  Mas  it  ever  appeared  to  you  that  there  was  an 
amount  of  activity  on  the  part  of  the  brain  in  the 
production  of  works  we  call  purely  literal,  equal  if 
not  greater  than  that  called  forth  by  manual  produc- 
tions ? " 

"I  have  often  thought  it  unfortunate,  Ulysses, 
that  the  word  art  carries  with  it  an  idea  of  activity, 
of  busy-ness,  which  in  the  word  profession,  represent- 
ing another  class  of  works,  is  entirely  lost?" 

"  Well,  then,  in  order  to  attach  the  conception  of 
work  to  this  \\ov({- profession,  let  us  regard  the  mental 
faculties,  for  the  time  being,  as  the  brain-fingers, 
since  they  are  the  agents,  invisible  but  real,  of  all 
the  work  accomplished." 

"  Then,  by  like  reasoning,  is  it  not  clear  that  the 
products  of  these  busy  brain-fingers  will  be  arts 
also?" 

"  That  too  would,  follow,  Ulysses." 

"  And  would  you  say  that  those  who  thoroughly 
master  the  technique  of  an  art  and  acquire  great 
skill  in  its  execution,  are  entitled  to  the  first  rank  in 
their  calling?" 

•Since  this  work  was  written,  the  author  has  heard  of  one  such 
school. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  FIRST  EXAMINATION.     287 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"And,  if  besides  this  knowledge  of  the  art  in  all 
its  details,  this  master-artist  has  the  ability  to  estab- 
lish governing  rules  and  principles  and  can  create  a 
successful  modus  operandi  for  the  instruction  of  the 
learner,  does  he  deserve  the  rank  of  Professor  of  that 
art  ?  " 

"  Assuredly,  Ulysses." 

"  As  a  man  cannot  successfully  teach  what  he 
partially  or  imperfectly  knows,  an  understanding  of 
his  art  and  a  capacity  to  impart  it  to  others  are 
essential  to  form  the  true  badge  of  the  Professor. 
Mr.  A.  professes  to  be  a  doctor,  but  if  he  do  not  un- 
derstand the  'art  of  healing'  the  body  he  is  a  quack, 
or  at  best  an  artist,  or  perhaps  only  an  amateur. 
Mr.  B.  professes  to  be  a  minister,  but  if  he  have  no 
skill  in  teaching  the  'science  of  life  '  and  does  not  un- 
derstand the  art  of  soul-healing,  he  is  a  charlatan,  an 
amateur  or  an  artist  may  be,  but-  not  a  '  Professor.1 
Mr.  C.  lias  the  profession  of  a  lawyer  and  may  have 
his  library  stocked  with  all  legal  authorities,  but  if  lie 
know  not  how  to  manage  all  the  varied  sinuosities 
of  the  law  sor  as  to  secure  justice  for  his  client,  he  is 
not  entitled  to  the  rank  of  '  Professor.'  ' 

"  Is  it  not  clearly  evident  Cebes,  that  if  we  had 
schools  for  the  '  art  of  literature  '  where  '  Professors ' 
could  be  properly  educated  there  would  be  fewer 
charlatans  and  tyros  to  impose  upon  and  befool  us  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  this  would  be  so,  Ulysses." 

"  And  what  Cebes,  would  follow  if  we  had  no 
sloppy  brain-work  ?  " 

"  Then  it  is  quite  evident,  Ulysses,  that  there 
would  be  no  trashy  literature." 

"  What  would  be  the  character  of  an  instructed 
public,  Cebes  ?  " 

"  Without  doubt  it  would  be  a  discriminating  public, 
Ulysses.  Many  people  devour  literature  now  because 
it  is  in  print ;  just  as  patients  swallow  drugs  because 
they  are  prescribed,  while  with  more  knowledge  of 
medicine  and  the  laws  which  govern  the  human 


288  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

system,  they  could  better  diagnose  their  own  case, 
and  save  their  pockets  from  depletion  and  their 
stomachs  the  disgrace  of  being  turned  into  a  drug 
shop ! " 

"  That  is  a  clever  comparison,  Cebes.  There  is  a 
magic  in  the  printed  drapery  of  thought  of  which  we 
must  all  beware;  a  sorcery  which  puts  us  under  the 
spell  of  authority — a  sort  of  Delphic  authority  whose 
utterances  we  fear  to  question,  for  are  they  not  '  in 
the  paper  '?  do  not  type  and  ink  give  them  oracular 
distinction  and  infallibility  ? 

"But  with  a  school  for  literary  training,  there 
would  be  fewer  but  better  books  in  the  market  no\v 
flooded  with  good,  bad,  and  indifferent.  We  are  a 
reading  people,  that  is  true,  but  do  not  let  us  surfeit 
ourselves,  like  the  confectioner's  clerk  in  his  novitiate, 
with  the  dainty  accessories  of  eating,  as  we  are  likely 
to  do,  in  these  days,  when  publishers,  with  a  laudable 
but  divided  enthusiasm  for  cheap  literature  and  a 
heavy  bank  account,  make  books  abound  as'  Solomon 
did  silver  in  Jerusalem — like  stones  in  the  streets  ! 

"These  things  being  so,  is  it  not  time  for  a  'new 
departure  '  ?  Shall  we  not  dare  to  be  original,  that  is, 
to  be  ourselves?  'One  star  differeth  from  another 
star  in  glory,'  each  has  its  own  peculiar  brightness. 
I  come  to  tell  you  of  a  more  excellent  way.  You 
have  come  to  learn  how  to  find  it.  A  fearful  re- 
sponsibility lies  in  the  education  of  a  human  soul. 
That  noble  work  I  leave  to  the  wise  and  good  who 
are  called  to  its  pursuit.  I  claim  nothing  in  that 
direction.  '  For  indeed,'  Ruskin  has  well  observed, 
'  the  arts,  as  regards  teachableness,  differ  from  the 
sciences  also  in  this  that  their  power  is  founded  not 
merely  on  facts  which  can  be  communicated,  but  on 
dispositions  which  require  to  be  created.'  I  am 
simply  an  'examiner'  of  the  mind  in  the  condition 
in  which  I  find  it.  I  present  truths,  I  endeavor  to 
awaken  desires  for  the  acquisition  of  the  best  kinds 
of  knowledge — so  far  forth  it  is  education,  but  frag- 
mentary. I  point  out  a  certain  path,  it  is  yours  to 


THE  PROFESSOR s  FIRST  EXAMINATION.    289 

choose  or  to  refuse  it.  I  lead  the  way  where  all  may 
follow  if  their  will  incline  them,  and  pray  without 
ceasing  that  each  one  may  secure  the  'true  riches.' 

"  It  is  assumed  when  the  class  comprises  persons  of 
mature  age — sucli  as  those  I  see  before  me — that 
there  has  been  previous  special  training  in  the  higher 
branches  of  learning  as  well  as  the  rudimentary;  but 
the  methods  by  which  such  are  instructed  how  to 
become  authors  will  be  precisely  the  same  as  would 
be  fitting  for  them  if  they  were  in  the  formative 
period  of  life  and  still  pursuing  those  studies;  as  the 
individual  resources  and  capacities  would,  however, 
vary  in  a  marked  degree  in  the  two  classes,  so 
the  work,  so  the  results,  would  be  correspondingly 
varied.  The  more  the  knowledge,  the  higher  and 
more  successful  the  work  under  the  same  methods 
of  training. 

"  I  propose  to  impart  to  you  the  secret  of  true 
authorship.  I  doubt  not  I  shall  have  to  bear  the 
frowns  and  sneers  of  brother-authors — and  perhaps 
the  disgrace  of  ostracism.  But  I  am  led  on  by  the 
spirit  of  truth — the  good  of  humanity  impels  me. 
Successful  reforms  are  often  inaugurated  in  the 
opposition  of  intolerance — if  the  cause  demand  a 
victim,  I  am  ready.  '  Yea,  woe  is  me  if  I  preach  not 
tiris  gospel ! ' ' 


290  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER   III. 

LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE. 

DEAR  ART: 

I  plead  guilty  to  malice  prepense,  in  quietly  ignor 
ing,  in  my  last  letter,  that  riddle  which  "time  was  tc 
solve."  If  you  had  penetrated  the  meaning  within 
the  lines,  you  would  have  ascertained  that  it  was  to 
be  unfolded  in  my  time,  that  is  to  say,  at  my. 
pleasure!  To  be  sure,  I  had  all  of  that  excellent  com- 
modity that  was  going,  as  much,  in  fact,  as  any  one 
else  could  boast  of,  for  had  I  not  all  there  was  ? — 
what  a  riddle  is  this,  that  there  is  something  from 
which  each  one  may  take  all  he  can  carry  away, 
without  diminishing  the  quantity,  and  no  one  can 
take  more  than  another.  But  I  felt  cramped,  and 
preferred  to  defer  the  subject  to  a  more  leisurely 
hour.  It  is  now  my  intention  to  introduce  method 
into  my  work,  and  try  to  keep  ahead  of  time  here- 
after, for,  once  in  the  rear,  it  is  hard  to  catch  up. 

But  at  last  I  am  about  to  divulge,  and  bring  you 
face  to  face  with  the  mystery.  I  see  your  quizzical 
expression,  but  I  am  not  to  be  bantered  on  so  serious 
a  subject,  for,  by  Dox,  when  a  man  is  in  for  a  nine 
months'  course  of  real,  hard  grubbing,  in  an  appren- 
ticeship of  his  talents  to  himself,  he  is  apt  to  be  a 
pretty  hard  master,  and  I,  sir,  stand  before  you  as 
an  equivalent  of  such  a  proceeding!  But  I  will 
speak  no  longer  in  an  "  unknown  tongue." 

You  remember  that,  in  my  last  letter,  I  briefly 
described  the  hall,  the  audience  and  the  Professor ; 
I  will  now  rehearse  the  occult  and  impressive  part  of 
the  affair. 


LETTER  TO  AUTttVR  DOANE.  291 

After  the  Professor's  explanation  of  his  style  of 
greeting  an  audience  (which  you  find  at  length  in 
the  MS.),  and  the  retreat  of  the  visiting  fair  sex, 
he  turned  suddenly  around  and  walked  to  a  black- 
board in  the  rear  of  the  stage,  and  wrote,  with  firm 
hand  in  engrossed  letters,  the  following  inscription  : 

"  Let  him  that  putteth  his  hand  to  the  plow  not 
look  back  " —  and  then  after  a  pause  so  solemn 
that  you  could  hear  the  traditional  pin  dropping,  and 
so  prolonged  that  each  one  of  us  had  turned  our- 
selves inside  out,  as  it  were,  in  the  scrutinizing  pro- 
cess and  given  our  brains  a  vacation  besides,  he 
advanced  to  the  front  of  the  stage,  and  said,  in  what 
I  should  call,  in  any  other  man,  a  dramatic  manner, 
(it  was  dramatic  but  was  not  acting,  as  was  evident 
from  the  suppressed  emotion,  felt  but  not  seen,  so  com-> 
pletely  was  he  master  of  himself),  and  very  much  in 
the  tone,  I  imagine,  in  which  kord  Nelson  said, 
"  England  expects  every  man  to  do  rfts  duty  "  : 

"  I  expect  this  word  of  wisdom  (pointing  to  the 
board)  to  find  fulfillment  in  the  intelligent  action  of 
each  one  in  this  presence.  'Let  not  him  that  putteth 
on  the  armor  boast  himself  as  he  that  taketh  it  off.' 
There  is  a  time  to  take  it  off  when  the  warfare  is 
over,  but  now  is  the  time  to  put  it  on,  and — keep  it 
on.  Put  it  on  in  no  listless  or  braggart  spirit — there 
is  indeed  no  room  for  boasting  now.  It  is  in  the  spirit 
of  true  humility  that  I  call  upon  each  one  of  you  to 
advance  to  the  work  !  Vagrants  follow  their  caprices 
and  stroll  at  will  through  all  fields,  but  the  man  of 
purpose  chooses  one  path  and  sets  his  feet  firmly  in  it 
and  his  face  towards  the  goal,  turning  neither  to  the 
right  nor  the  left.  Demosthenes,  with  half-shaven 
head — to  be  proof  against  the  temptations  to  cut  short 
his  term  of  voluntary  confinement — endured  six 
months  in  a  lonely  chamber,  that  he  might  devote 
the  energy  of  his  whole  being  to  the  study  of  oratory. 

"  To  be  a  scholar,  to  place  one's  self  above  the 
common  level,  to  ascend  the  steeps  of  science  and 
climb  the  rugged  hill  of  fame,  require  energy, 


292  ME  OPAL  QUEEN. 

resolution,  time,  self-denial,  patience,  and  ambition. 
These  are  not  the  common  qualities  of  a  fickle  brain, 
but  the  higher  attributes  of  genius.  He  that  pos- 
sesses them,  by  disciplining  them  and  subjecting  them 
to  proper  obedience  to  his  own  masterspirit, can  con- 
trol, not  only  his  own  destiny  but  that  of  others. 

"  A  voice  has  bidden  you  enter  here.  You  will  not 
disregard  that  inner  voice,  urging  you  on  to  high 
emprise.  Success  is  a  coy  maiden  who  can  only  be 
embraced  after  ardent  and  persistent  wooing.  But 
the  way  to  success  is  now  open  to  you,  the  time  is 
propitious,  the  examiner  is  before  you — earth  listens 
and  heaven  waits  to  grant  you  nerve  for  fulfillment. 

"  Are  you  ready  for  the  endeavor  ?  I  expect  each 
one  before  me  (and  he  took  us  all  in,  Art,  by  a 
glance  of  his  eye)  to  enter  these  lists  of  brave  sur- 
render, and  to  pursue,  with  me,  the  study  of  truth, 
and  the  development  of  his  highest  faculties  and 
rising  capacities,  until  he  finish  the  course." 

"  Nothing  cabalistic  in  the  words,  as  I  can  see,  or 
so  very  wonderful,  either,"  I  hear  you  say. 

That  is  so,  Art,  but  you  must  remember  that  the 
most  eloquent  and  convincing  spee'ches  are  often 
tame  and  spiritless  when  reduced  to  writing.  Fur- 
thermore, I  have  not  given  you  the  exact  words,  for 
I  was  so  taken  by  surprise  by  this  coup  cTStat — the 
abruptness  and  oddity  of  his  movement,  and  the 
swift  impassioned  appeal — or  harangue,  perhaps  I 
should  call  it — thjlt  my  mind  and  heart  were  com- 
pletely carried  away,  and  there  was  nothing  left  of 
me  for  stenography. 

Then  another  thing  is  to  be  taken  into  account. 
Although  the  phraseology  of  the  sentence  would  in- 
dicate authority,  and  the  use  of  the  word  "  expect  " 
might  seem  to  imply  command,  that  was  not  the  tone 
in  which  the  Professor  addressed  us.  There  was  a 
seeming  contradiction  between  the  spirit  of  the  words 
and  the  spirit  of  the  speaker.  The  voice,  the  tone, 
was  of  a  persuasive  earnestness,  which  somehow  filled 
one  with  a  feeling  that  he  had  been  long  years 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  293 

patiently  waiting  for  this  very  hour,  when  our  eyes 
would  be  opened  to  the  glory  of  the  prize  and  our 
power  and  privilege  to  grasp  it.  And  there  was  a 
pathos  in  it,  that  was  more  like  a  mother  pleading 
with  her  child — it  was,  in  fact,  spirit  pleading  with 
spirit ;  the  accessories  of  body  and  time  forgotten  for 
the  moment,  souls  pure  and  simple  met  in  that  supreme 
crisis  of  mental  search  and  reflection. 

The  magnetism  of  the  man  is  something  phenome- 
nal. We  were  all  spellbound,  and  did  not  care  to  do 
aught  but  his  bidding — willing  victims  !  that  is  the 
chicanery  of  it!  But,  on  the  whole,  I  do  not  regret 
my  bondage — if  bondage  it  may  be  called — for  it  is 
oi;ly  to  myself,  in  a  laudable  career.  And,  oh  !  Art, 
if  I  do  succeed,  the  darling  wish  of  my  devoted  par- 
ents and  idolizing  "  Gran  "  will  be  fulfilled  !  This 
thought  is  another  buoy  for  the  line  I  now  throw  out 
into  the  deep  waters  of  industry — this -net  I  now 
cast  into  the  great,  wide  sea  of  .literature,  for  the 
golden  draught  the}'  call  "  fame." 

This  is  ambition,  I  know  ;  not,  I  trust,  "  the  vault- 
ing ambition  that  o'erleaps  itself,"  but  a  sober  and 
worthy  desire  to  be  among  the  foremost,  for  the  hon- 
or of  my  manhood.  For  myself,  I  would  not  be  am- 
bitious in  this  direction ;  but  for  the  dear  ones  who 
are  wishing,  and  watching,  and  hoping — ah!  for  their 
sweet  sakes,  best  of  chums,  pray  that  I  may  receive 
the  laurel  crown  ! 

I  think  there  is  a  great  deal  in  what  the  Professor 
says  about  "  genius."  Caiiyle,  you  know,  disclaimed 
all  pretensions  to  it,  saying:  "Of  genius,  I  never  im- 
agined in  the  most  lofty  humors  that  I  possessed  be- 
yond the  smallest  possible  fraction  ;  and  this  fraction, 
be  it  little  or  less,  can  only  be  turned  to  account  by 
rigid  and  stern  perseverance  through  long  years  of 
labor.  Unrelenting  perseverance,  stubborn  effort,  is 
the  remedy.  My  own  poor  arm,  weak  and  shackled 
as  it  is,  must  work  out  my  deliverance,  or  I  am  for- 
ever captive  and  in  bonds." 

I  have  adopted  his  beautiful  motto,  which  was  his 


294  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

vade    mecum  during  those   struggling   years — Terar 
dum  prosim. — May  I  be  wasted,  so  that  I  be  of  use. 

There  will  be  great  opposition  to  the  new  move- 
ment, of  course — there  always  is  at  the  outset  of  any 
reformatory  measure — and  there  will  be  ridicule  and 
satire,  caricaturing  and  lampooning,  but  we  shall  plod 
steadily  on,  heeding  it  not. 

So  you  behold,  dear  chum,  in  your  hitherto  un- 
bridled companion,  the  prostrate  slave  of  Duty,  but 
none  the  less,  always 

Your  devoted  friend, 

CHANNING. 

P.  S. — The  Professor  has  honored  me  with  the 
name  of  Achilles 


SECOND  "EXAMINATION."  295 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SECOND        "  EXAMINATION  " — GENIUS,      AND        HIN- 
DU AN  CES  TO  ITS  DEVELOPMENT. 

"  '  O  BELOVED  Father  and  all  good  spirits  whose 
dwelling  is  in  this  place,  grant  us  to  be  beautiful  in 
soul,  and  all  that  we  possess  of  outward  things  to  be 
at  peace  with  them  within.  Teach  us  to  think  wis- 
dom, the  only  riches.  And  give  us  so  much  wealth, 
and  so  much  only,  as  good  and  holy  men  could  man- 
age and  enjoy.' 

"  '  Want  we  anything  more  ?  for  my  prayer  is 
finished.' '' 

"  Tell  me,  Achilles,  what  you  consider  the  true 
meaning  of  those  words  of  Horace,  Poeta  nascitur, 
non  fit." 

"It  seems  to  me,  Ulysses,  that  Horace  intended 
to  affirm  that  a  genius  for  poetry  can  by  no  possibil- 
ity be  bought,  stolen,  or  acquired,  because  it  is  a 
birthright  possession." 

"  Would  you  say,  Achilles,  that  bejrond  this  orig- 
inal and  accepted  signification  there  is  a  larger  prop- 
osition, derived  from  its  spirit,  which  asserts  that 
success  is  not  possible  in  any  of  the  'fine  arts'  with- 
out genius— by  which  we  mean  a  special,  inborn  gift 
for  its  pursuit  ?  " 

"  That  is  also,  I  think,  Ulysses,  derived  from  it 
by  popular  interpretation.  But  this  is  one  of  the 
world's  favorite  aphorisms,  Ulysses,  and  I,  for  one, 
feel  ready  to  resent  any  attacks  upon  it." 

"It  is  time-honored,  I  acknowledge,  Achilles,  and 
so  beautiful  in  its  moss-grown  decorations,  that 
it  is  indeed  pity  to  disturb  its  repose.  But  the  living 


296  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

fact  is  that  where  we  have  one  *  genius  '  now,  we  ought 
to  have  one  hundred  !  Tell  me,  Achilles,  have  you 
really,  as  I  hear,  borne  off  the  prize,  in  two  mathe- 
matical contests  ?  " 

"  It  is  as  you  say,  Ulysses." 

"  And  has  it  ever  come  to  your  ears,  as  the  voice  of 
}-our  townsmen,  that  you  have  a  '  genius  '  for  mathe- 
matics?" 

"  This  I  must  also  confess,  Ulysses.' 

"  Euthydemus,  I  understand,  has  been  your  com- 
panion and  classmate  ;  perhaps  he  can  tell  us  whether 
you  have  been  what  is  called  an  idle  lad." 

"On  the  contrary,  Ulysses,  Achilles  acquired  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  industrious  student." 

"  And  can  you  testify  from  your  own  observation, 
Euthydemus,  that  he  is  deserving  of  such  repu- 
tation ?  " 

"Unquestionabty,  Ulysses." 

"Have  you  ever  suspected,  Achilles,  that  you 
had  any  skill  for  architecture  ?  " 

"  Except  a  fondness  for  carving,  Ulysses,  I  have 
had  no  attraction  towards  that  art  and  have  enter- 
tained no  suspicions  of  a  talent  for  it." 

"  And  if  Achilles  were  cast  upon  a  desert  island, 
judging  from  what  you  know  of  his  industry  and 
love  of  orderly  occupation,  does  it  seem  to  you,  Eu- 
thydemus, that  he  would  be  long  without  a  habita- 
tion raised  bv  his  own  hands  to  shelter  and  protect 
him?" 

"  I  am  convinced,  Ulysses,  that  he  would  construct 
an  edifice  very  soon,  for  he  is  an  inveterate  whittler, 
and  his  mathematical  skill  would  undoubtedly  assist 
him." 

"  Do  you  draw  this  conclusion  chiefly  from  his 
talent  or  from  his  industry,  Euthydemus?  " 

"  Chiefly  from  his  horror  of  idleness,  Ulysses." 

"  On  account,  then,  of  his  love  of  the  beautiful, 
and  the  determination  to  overcome  all  obstacles, 
which  he  is  known  to  have,  it  is  fair  to  suppose  that 
he  would  make  a  study  of  foliage  and  the  roots  and 


SECOND  "EXAMINATION."  297 

trunks  of  trees,  and  after  considerable  practice  be 
able  to  wrest  some  of  Nature's  secrets  from  her  and 
produce  a  creditable  structure?" 

"Undoubtedly,  there  would  be  some  such  culmina- 
tion, Ulysses." 

"  But  if  this  would  be  possible  under  such  un- 
favorable circumstances,  might  we  not  reasonably  ex- 
pect a  more  splendid  development  if  an  equal  amount 
of  industry  were  laid  out  under  the  direction  of 
masters  of  the  art  of  architecture  ?  " 

"  It  is  quite  clear  that  this  would  be  so,  Ulysses." 

"Is  sloth  the  producer  of  any  great  works, 
Achilles?  " 

"  Unquestionably  not,  Ulysses,  except  the  dread- 
ful ones  of  vice  and  ignorance." 

"  Does  it  not  then  appear  to  you,  Achilles,  that  if 
men  were  released  from  her  shackles,  and  thereby  free 
to  make  the  most  of  themselves  and  their  opportuni- 
ties, the  crop  of  geniuses  would  be  greater  than  at 
present?  And  if  idleness  be  a  hindrance  to  the 
development  of  genius,  and  men  are,  unaware,  ignorant 
of  that  fact,  does  it  follow  that  one  incentive  to  in- 
dustry is  lost?" 

"  How  can  it  be  otherwise,  Ulysses?  " 

"  And  if  after  tireless  industry  some  fail  to  obtain 
the  results  of  genius,  would  you  consider,  therefore, 
that  their  labor  had  been  without  profit,  Achilles?" 

"  By  no  means,  Ulysses,  for,  in  seeking  for  one 
good,  they  were  no  doubt  getting  a  furnishing  for 
the  work  to  which  they  were  better  adapted,  and 
which  they  would,  perhaps,  by  this  very  means, 
„  discover — as,  for  example,  the  training  that  Carlyle 
had  in  the  ministry  and  the  law  was  part  of  his 
equipment  for  a  literary  career." 

"  Are  you  willing,  then?  that  we  consider  what  are 
some  of  the  other  hindrances  to  the  development  of 
genius?  " 

"  I  am  quite  willing." 

"  Are  you  aware,  Achilles,  that  some  distinguished 
thinkers  maintain  that  universal  education  is  a 


298  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

hindrance    rather    than    a    help    in    governmental 
\      polity?" 

\          "That  was  probably   Pope's  idea  when   he  said, 

\     'A  little  learning  is  a   dangerous   thing,'   Ulysses; 

\    and  Socrates  observes   that  '  one   of  the  inevitable 

\  results  of  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  in  a  free  com- 

\  munity    is    the    growth    and   rooting    of    irrational 

1  opinions,    in    contradistinction    from    pure    knowl- 

edge.'" 

/  "And  it  is  quite  clear  that  he  was  right,  Achilles, 
/  for  to  deal  with  ignorance  is  comparatively  easy,  but 
/  ignorance  puffed  up  with  the  conceit  of  knowledge 
forms  a  mountain  of  error,  a  veritable  Ehrenbreitstein, 
that  can  only  be  dug  away  in  ages,  or  exploded  by 
the  volcanoes  of  a  revolution.  Conceit  blinds  the" 
eyes  to  real  ignorance,  and  weaves  a  mask  of  learning 
which,  when  once  well  adjusted,  cuts  off  the  view  of 
the  natural  features,  for  the  masker  will  not  have  the 
courage  to  expose  them  ;  he  will  be  a  blind  but  potent 
force  for  evil,  for  he  will  have  just  enough  knowledge 
to  be  the  tool  of  designing  demagogues." 

"  Herbert  Spencer  considers  our  theory  of  universal 
education  a  delusion,  so  far  as  it  is  a  cure  for  political 
evils,  you  are  aware,  Ulysses." 

"  And  this  will  inevitably  be  true,  if  we  leave  the 
education  of  the  morals  out  of  the  account,  by  with- 
drawing the  Bible  and  religious  training  from  our 
schools,  Achilles." 

"You  remember,  Ulysses,  that  Nordenskjold,  in  his 
voyage  in  the  Vega,  in  search  of  the  northeast  passage, 
discovered  a  people  on  the  desolate  shore  of  northern 
Siberia,  who,  without  education,  maintained  a  just 
and  liberal  government,  social  and  domestic  order, 
and  even  refinement  of  manners." 

"You  refer  to  the  Tchuktchis,  Achilles;  it  was 
indeed  surprising.  And  that  distinguished  jurist 
and  lawyer,  Judge  Stevens,  declared  that  '  the  ideas 
now  moving  the  world  are,  for  the  most  part,  morbid, 
and  crazy  ideas,  which  are  the  legitimate  fruit  of  hot- 
bed and  universal  education;  many  things,'  he  says, 


SECOND  ' '  EX  A  MINA  TION. "  299 

'  usually  accounted  unmixed  blessings  to  mankind, 
are  more  curses  than  blessings.  Education  is  one 
of  them.'  Notwithstanding  these  wise  opinions,  is 
it  not  a  self-evident  truth,  Achilles,  that  a  liberal 
elementary  education  is  the  common  and  inalienable 
right  of  all,  is  included  in  that  Declaration  of  our 
forefathers,  in  the  phrase  '  life,  liberty,  and  the 
pursuit  of  happiness  '  ?  " 

."So  it  appears  to  me,  Ulysses." 

"  We  call  those  wicked  who  defraud  men  of  their 
just  rights,  do  we  not,  Euthydemus?" 

,"  Undoubtedly,  Ulysses." 

"  Then  is  not  he  who  defrauds  himself  of  his  own 
lawful  rights  guilty  ?  " 

"  This  is  also  clear,  Ulysses." 

"  If,  then,  a  liberal  elementary  education  be  an 
individual  right,  does  it  not,  therefore,  become  an 
individual  duty  to  enter  into  its  possession?" 

"I,  indeed,  agree  with  you  in  that  opinion." 

"  Then,  in  a  court  of  moral  equity,  we  might  put 
our  case  thus  : 

"  As  it  is  the  child's  inherent  and  inalienable  right 
to  be  properly  nourished  and  strengthened  by  his 
parents,  to  whom  he  renders  service,  so  it  is  the  plain 
and  inalienable  light  of  the  citizen,  in  the  very  con- 
stitution of  things,  to  demand  nourishment  and 
strength  from  the  state,  to  whom  he  renders  service 
— not  simply  protection  in  the  one  case  more  than  in 
the  other,  but  just  development  of  the  powers  which 
shall  fit  him  for  the  best  son  or  the  best  citizen." 

"And,  further,  as  it  is  the  imperative  duty  of  the 
parent  to  give  his  child  religious  training,  so  it  is  the 
plain  duty  of  the  state  to  cultivate  the  morals  of  its 
citizens,  and  thereby  establish  character,  which  more 
than  education,  makes  them  loyal  to  the  state." 

"  That  education  is  necessary  in  the  production  of 
genius,  I  think  we  will  all  agree  ;  but  will  all  kinds  of 
education  foster  genius?" 

Achilles  was  silently  considering  what  answer  to 
make  to  this  question,  and  did  not  reply. 


300  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  Do  you  consider  originality  an  essential  quality 
of  genius,  Achilles  ?  " 

"  Unquestionably,  Ulysses,  it  is  the  distinguishing 
merit  attaching  to  it." 

"  Have  you  ever  thought  that  the  tendency  of  the 
educational  process  of  the  day  was  to  educate  origi- 
nality out  of.  the  student?  " 

"  That  is  probably  the  case,  Ulysses,  but  until  now 
I  have  given  the  subject  no  attention." 

"  Are  not  students  plastered  all  over  with  forms  and 
made  to  run  in  grooves  ?  Is  not  what  little  invention 
may  be  in  them  pruned  away  to  make  them  fit  into 
the  prescribed  moulds  that  custom  and  learning  have 
fashioned  for  them  ?  Cramped  and  fettered  in  the 
free  play  of  their  own  imagination,  made  to  think 
other  people's  thoughts,  and  adopt  other  people's 
theories  and  maxims,  is  it  strange  that  we  turn  out 
fine  specimens  of  the  model,  but  no  new  designs,  by 
this  course  of  education  ?  Are  not  the  natural  powers 
of  observation  checked  or  suppressed  in  the  artificial 
training  of  our  modern  school  system  ?  " 

"  It  is  as  you  say,  Ulysses." 

"Did  you  ever  consider,  Achilles,  the  growth  of 
this  thing,  this  wonderful  agent,  we  call  a  school  of 
learning?  " 

"  I  am  aware,  Ulysses,  that  wise  men  met,  coun- 
selled, and  decided  upon  certain  branches  of  learning 
to  be  pursued  under  competent  instructors,  in  one 
building  set  apart  for  the  purpose/' 

"  What  you  say  is  true,  Achilles.  Then  other  wise 
men  met,  counselled,  and  other  branches  were  added 
to  the  curriculum.  After  a  lapse  of  time,  other  wise 
men  met,  counselled,  and  grafted  more  buds  into 
the  parent  stock,  and  thus  they  kept  on  adding  all 
desirable  forms  of  knowledge,  until,  at  the  present 
time,  the  tree  of  education  groans  with  its  weight  of 
miscellaneous  fruits  and  superfluous  branches.  In 
the  worthy  effort  to  develop  the  whole  man,  and  round 
him  off  so  perfectly  that  he  would  slip  with  easy 
motion  through  the  walks  of  life,  they  have  succeeded 


SECOND  "EXAMINATION."  301 

in  polishing  him  so  smooth  and  round,  that,  satisfied 
with  liis  gloss  and  rotundity,  he  has  no  incentive  to 
roll  at  all!" 

•'  Does  it  appear  to  you,  Euthydemus,  that,  as  a  rule, 
genius  is  eccentric  ?" 

"  That  is  probably  the  case,  Ulysses." 

"Is  it  not  evident  that  eccentricity  must  present  a 
few  angles  of  individuality?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  What  will  you  say,  then,  to  the  rounding  and 
smoothing  process  of  the  modern  system  of  educa- 
tion?" 

"  I  must  conclude,  Ulysses,  that  it  is  fatal  to 
genius." 

"  I  once  heard  the  father  of  a  promising  boy  remark 
that  he  never  intended  to  punish  his  child,  for  fear  of 
checking  his  growth  in  originality.  Would  you  con- 
sider such  cheap  training  anything  more  than  the  rank, 
noisome  growth  of  the  weed  that  cumbereth  the 
ground  ?  " 

"It  would  undoubtedly  be  productive  of  a  fine 
crop  of  original  sin,  Ulysses,  with  the  penitentiary 
in  the  near  perspective." 

"  Should  not  the  aim  in  education  be  to  lead  out 
the  faculties  and  give  them  fair  play  in  a  right  direc- 
tion, without  distorting,  cramping,  or  crowding  them, 
and  without  terrifying  or  discouraging  their  owner?'' 

"  I  quite  agree  with  what  you  say  on  that  point, 
Ulysses. 

"The  dominant  taste  of  the  child  is  an  index  of 
selection  for  the  life-pursuit,  and  all  the  education 
should  bend  to  the  development  of  that  taste.  It 
usually  appears  in  early  childhood,  and,  if  not  crushed 
out  by  opposition  or  stern  necessity,  rapidly  develops 
under  the  simple,  fostering  influences  of  Nature  and 
local  surroundings.  If  the  educational  processes  are 
all  adapted  to  further  the  same  development,  the 
product  will  be,  if  not  genius,  a  shoot  of  rare  value 
and  close  resemblance  to  it. 

" '  Hogarth's  exercises  at  school  were  more  remark- 


302  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

able  for  the  ornaments  which  adorned  them  than  for 
the  exercises  themselves  ; '  and  Thomas  Bewick,  after 
exhausting  the  margins  of  his  books,  found  ample 
material  for  his  chalk-sketches  in  the  gravestones, 
the  floor  of  the  church  porch,  and  the  family  hearth- 
stone. 

"  Genius  will  find  vent  if  unchecked. 

"Another  hindrance  to  original  development  is 
man's  unwillingness  to  accept  the  conditions  which 
Nature,  who  is  the  educator  of  genius,  sees  necessaiy 
to  impose.  She  is  a  jealous  teacher  and  stern  disci- 
plinarian, and  usually  weaves  a  net 'of  circumstances 
around  her  pupil,  which  will  make  his  personal  lot 
include  many  hardships,  and  few  or  rio  compensatory 
benefits,  and  tumble  him  into  contest  with  the 
vanities,  prejudices,  contradictions,  absurdities,  and 
excesses  of  men,  to  supply  his  public  and  social 
training. 

"  Privations,  poverty,  toil,  scorn,  and  obloquy  arc 
some  of  the  depressing  and  inexorable  companions  of 
his  struggling  march.  Friends  they  are,  since  they 
assist  in  leading  him  into  the  conquering  hero's 
pathway,  but  friends  in  disguise 

"  Love  of  ease,  ambitious  projects  for  wealth  without 
sacrifice,  too  often  blight  with  their  sirocco-breath 
the  promising  buds  of  genius,  and  give  to  the  world 
an  imitator  instead  of  a  creator — an  effigy  rather 
than  a  man. 

"While  I  am  not  willing  to  adopt  that  other  maxim, 
that  '  Genius  is  Perseverance,'  you  will  not  fail  to 
perceive,  from  the  suggestions  already  thrown  out, 
that,  in  my  opinion,  perseverance  enters  largely  into 
the  composition  of  genius. 

"  It  is,  indeed,  difficult  to  find  a  master  in  one  of  the 
arts  who  has  not  begun  early  and  practiced  inces- 
santly at  his  work ;  toiling  on  through  the  revolving 
years,  dimly  realizing  perhaps,  at  first,  anything  but 
the  passion,  and  the  necessity  for  its  exercise,  but 
nevertheless  toiling  early  and  late,  cheered  only  by 
inspiriting  inner  visions,  until  success  crowns  his 


SECOND  EXAMINATION.  3QS 

efforts,  and  fa  ne  heralds  it  to  the  world.  Even  the 
work  of  the  artisan,,  for  which  truly  some  genius  is 
required,  has  been  governed  by  these  same  rules  and 
subject  to  the  same  conditions,  methods,  and  inspira- 
tions. 

"  Thomas  Bewick — you  remember  him  as  the  en- 
graver of  '  Select  Fables,'  the  '  Birds,'  the  '  Quadru- 
peds,' and  the  rare  block  of  the  '  Chillingham  Bull ' — 
devoted  all  the  play-hours  of  his  childhood  and  youth, 
seven  years  of  apprenticeship,  and  long  years  of 
patient,  loving  labor,  under  his  own  leadership,  to  the 
work  of  his  art,  and  was  rewarded  with  the  bright  and 
enviable  eminence  of  the  inventor  of  the  '  White 
Line,'  and  the  proud  glory  of  reviving  by  his  indi- 
vidual genius  (the  world  calls  it)  the  art  of  wood- 
engraving,  and  giving  it  an  impulse  which  continues 
to  this  day. 

"  And  how  we  venerate  dear  Charles  Goodyear,  as 
he  stands  in  a  complete  outfit  of  rubber  !  (including 
a  cane  of  the  same  material) — a  costume  full  of 
pathos,  when  you  know  its  history — for  did  he  not 
devote  his  life  to  the  consummation  of  one  cherished 
hope  ? — not  only  sacrificing  ease,  family  comfort,  and 
reputation  for  sanity,  but  enduring  rebuffs,  ridicule, 
and  grim  poverty  itself  ;  going  about  worn,  haggard, 
dispirited,  hopeless  of  men,  but  with  undying  faith  in 
his  invention,  he  at  last  perfected  his  work  and 
bequeathed  to  the  disbelieving  world  an  industry  so 
universal  in  its  application  to  life's  needs  and  re- 
quirements, that  it  takes  a  first  rank  in  the  com- 
modities of  commerce. 

"  Charles  Goodyear,  animated  from  first  to  last  with 
the  unconquerable  passion  of  working  out  his  dom- 
inant conception,  and  the  philanthropic  desire  of 
benefiting  humanity,  by  the  products  of  his  genius, 
discovered  the  secret  of  vulcanizing  rubber;  and 
then,  overcome  by  toil  and  anxiety,  died  prematurely, 
a  martyr  to  his  prolonged  sufferings  in  its  attain- 
ment. 

"  And  now  to  these  honored  names  illustrating  in 


304  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

their  lives  the  genius  of  perseverance — and  those  not 
less  distinguished,  Palissy,  De  Lesseps,  Edison — 
we  may  add  aRoebling  !  crowned  as  are  his  suffering 
years  with  the  chaplet  of  a  patience  that  faltered 
not  in  the  achievement  of  his  great  purpose,  although 
deprived  of  the  stimulus  of  human  appreciation, 
until  victory  arched  the  stream,  and  gave  us  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge." 


THIRD  EXAMINATION.  3Q5 


CHAPTER  V. 

THIRD  "  EXAMINATION  " — THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE 
AUTHOR. 

"  TELL  me,  Charmides,  if  you  believe  that  the  spirit 
in  which  an  author  undertakes  his  work  will  materi- 
ally affect  that  work  ?  " 

"Assuredly,  Ulysses;  it  goes  without  saying  that 
he  must  not  write  in  a  rancorous  or  vindictive,  pas- 
sionate or  envious  spirit.  Crystallized  spleen  may 
sparkle  at  first,  but  it  soon  decomposes  into  a  putrid 
mass  which  is  alike  an  offense  to  the  reader  and  a 
disgrace  to  the  writer." 

"Must  he  also  speak  truthfully,  Charmides?" 

"  Certainly,  Ulysses." 

"And  in  order  to  secure  the  best  results,  must  he 
speak  the  truth  in  love  ?  " 

"That,  doubtless,  would  secure  the  best  results, 
Ulysses,  besides  making  him  a  subject  for  inspiration." 

"Will  you  allow  us  to  consider  this  matter  of  lit- 
erary inspiration,  about  which  there  is  so  much  loose 
talk  ?  " 

"  I  shall  consider  it  with  pleasure,  Ulysses." 

"  Have  you  not  heard  men  who  deny  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  Scriptures,  and  yet  shrink  from  acknowl- 
edging their  infidelity,  in  a  company  of  believers,' 
say  with  boastful  condescension  : 

"  '  Certainly,  the  apostles  were  inspired.  You  also, 
my  dear  Mr.  MacDonald,  were  inspired  to  write  your 
"Scenes  in  a  Quiet  Neighborhood,"  and  so  was  Han- 
nah More  when  she  wrote  "  Ccelebs  in  Search  of  a 
Wife."  ' 


306  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"*In  a  general  sense  I  grant  that  I  was  inspired,' 
replies  MacDonald,  '  for  God  every  moment  breathes 
into  me  the  breath  of  life,  without  which  thought  as 
well  as  literary  composition  would  be  impossible. 
But  that  I  am  taken  possession  of  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  divested  of  all  selfishness,  pride,  ambition, 
everything  that  belongs  to  my  earthly  nature,  so  that 
I  cannot  err  in  my  writings,  much  as  I  would  like  to 
believe  it,  I  must  deny — an  appeal  to  my  own  con- 
sciousness will  not  sustain  the  affirmative.' 

"  But  without  examining  this  branch  of  the  subject 
farther,  would  it  appear,  Charmides,  that  he  who  is 
seeking  for  truth,  and  the  best  methods  of  enforcing 
it,  would  put  himself  in  close  communication,  and 
cultivate  intimate  relations  with  the  Guiding  Spirit 
of  all  Truth  ?  If  lie  were  a  sincerely  earnest  hea- 
then, would  he  consciously  establish  this  relation 
with  his  guiding  divinity?" 

"  So  it  appears  to  me,  Ulysses/' 

"  And  if  he  were  a  sincere  and  enlightened  Chris- 
tian, ought  we  not  to  expect  equal  wisdom  in  the 
deliberate  choice  of  the  God,  who  is  named  Imman- 
uel?" 

"I  feel  clearly  persuaded  that  as  an  intelligent  be* 
ing  he  ought  so  to  do,  but  on  the  other  hand  I  see  so 
few  who  put  themselves  under  this  Leadership  that 
I  am  led  to  doubt  its  efficacy." 

"  The  fact  that  men  do  not  avail  themselves  of  a 
privilege  cannot  be  considered  proof  that  it  does  not 
exist,  Charmides." 

"The  petitioner's  supplies  will  be  in  exact  propor- 
tion to  his  demands  upon  the  treasury.  If  he  stand 
still  in  helpless,  do-less  scepticism,  putting  forth  no 
effort  to  establish  the  communication,  he  will  hear  no 
voice,  receive  no  orders.  But  let  him  compass  the 
difficulties  on  the  human  side,  and  then  touch  with 
the  voice  of  his  soul  that  invisible  telephone  stretch- 
ing to  Heaven's  court,  poised  close  by  the  believer's 
ear,  and  the  returns  will  be  full  and  satisfactory." 

"  Would  you  consider  all  endued  with  a  certain 


THIRD  EXAMINATION.  307 

kind  of  inspiration,  who,  like  the  apostles,  lived  ac- 
cording to  the  guidings  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  sacrific- 
ing everything  belonging  to  self  for  the  good  of 
humanity  ?  " 

u  I  am  compelled  to  admit,  Ulysses,  that  if  self  is 
ever  rooted  out  of  the  soul,  a  Divine  Power  must  do 
it,  and  the  only  way  to  prevent  its  return,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  is  for  that  Holy  Spirit  to  keep  possession,  in 
which  case  the  man  would,  of  necessity,  be  inspired." 

"  Siddartha  wrought  out  a  purer  code  of  morals  for 
the  demoralized  Brahminists,  by  the  sacrifice  of  per- 
sonal ease  and  indulgence.  Confucius  formed  a 
moral  code  for  the  Chinese.  Marcus  Aurelins  An- 
toninus laid  down  in  his  philosophy  maxims  of 
\\isdom  and  virtue  to  reclaim  the  Romans  from  vice 
and  degradation.  Would  you  consider  all  these  in- 
spired, according  to  the  degree  of  self-abnegation 
they  exercised  ?" 

"  So  it  would  seem,  Ulysses.  And  where  would 
you  rank  Socrates?  I  see  you  have  left  him  out  of 
the  list." 

"  Among  men,  Socrates  was  undoubtedly  the 
greatest  embodiment  of  devotion  to  duty  that  ever 
lived  in  a  human  form,  Charmides.  In  the  last  days 
of  his  imprisonment— days  glorious  with  the  hope- 
ful cheer  in  which  he  discoursed  on  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  and  full  of  the  pathos  of  unmerited 
punishment — was  not  that  god-like  man  afraid  that 
he  had  neglected  some  will  of  the  gods?" 

"  I  have  read,  Ulysses,  that  in  those  last  days  he 
carried  out  the  injunction  of  a  dream  which  had  be- 
set him  in  one  form  and  another  all  his  life.  The 
dream  said:  'Socrates,  cultivate  the  Muses,  and 
make  this  your  work.'  As  philosophy  was  the 
highest  province  of  the  Muses  and  he  was  engaged 
in  that  pursuit,  he  supposed  that  the  voice  was 
urging  him  on  and  encouraging  him  in  his  work. 
But  iu  those  last  moments,  in  order  to  clear  himself 
of  the  sin  of  neglect,  in  c.ise  the  voice  had  been  en- 
joining upon  him  to  cultivate  poetry,  he  wrote  a 


308  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

hymn  to  God,  and  turned  JEsop's  fables,  which  he 
knew  by  heart,  into  verse." 

"  This  anxiety  to  do  the  whole  will  of  God  was  in- 
expressibly touching  at  such  a  time,  Charm  ides,  and 
recalls  the  apostle's  injunction,  'Lest  by  any  means 
ye  should  let  them  slip.'  If  you  look  carefully  at 
tlie  biography  of  great  men,  will  you  not  find  that, 
listening  to  the  inward  voice,  is  what,  more  than 
anything  else,  makes  spiritual  heroes?" 

"  You  say  what  is  clearly  the  case,  Ulysses." 

"The  spiritual  ear  becomes  so  attuned  to  the  soft, 
inaudible  cadences  of  the  guiding  Spirit,  that  it 
catches  the  meaning  of  the  court  messages,  even 
while  they  are  in  the  current  of  transmission.  To 
hear  is  to  obey  with  these  heroes.  It  is  not  only 
Socrates  who  heeds  the  warning  of  a 'familiar  spirit,' 
as  he  called  it — the  '  special  manifestation  of  the 
Divine  will  rarely,  if  ever,  vouchsafed  to  any  man."1 

"  The  characters  that  we  have  mentioned  were  lights 
in  a  dark  world,  but  the  light  that  arose  in  Judea, 
when  the  new-born  Babe  of  the  manger  was  heralded 
by  Heaven's  angelic  chorus  of  song,  has  eclipsed  all 
les.ser  lights — those  were  only  the  scattered  beams  of 
this  coming  Sun,  that  holds  all  light's  essence  in  its 
supreme  effulgence.  The  'Sun  of  Righteousness' 
has  arisen — the  lesser  lights  flee  away,  there  is  no 
more  place  for  them.  The  work  of  spiritual  heroes 
now — God's  Christian  heroes — is  to  disseminate  His 
light.  They  are  all  torch-bearers,  whose  wands  have 
been  lighted  at  the  same  altar.  Siddarthas  and  Zo- 
roasters  are  not  possible,  now,  but  devout  leaders  are 
ever  in  request.  The  feeblest  may  carry  a  light,  -if 
perchance  it  be  but  a  rushlight,  and  all  may  catch 
Heaven's  sparks  as  they  fall  upon  the  altar  of  Faith. 
Acting  in  this  spirit,  Heaven  alone  can  register  the 
good  that  one  may  accomplish,  eternity  alone  dis- 
close it." 

"  The  heathen  believes  that  his  gods  can  assist  him, 
and  prays  to  the  deity  that  controls  the  special  bless- 
ing lie  needs.  Shall  a  Christian  be  less  devout? 


THIRD  RXAMINATION.  309 

Shall  he  not  establish  the  connection  with  Heaven's 
courts?  May  he  not  pray  for  direct  and  instant  as- 
sistance in  whatever  he  undertakes  for  the  good  of 
humanity  ?  " 

"  He  not  only  may,  Ulysses,  but  he  ought  so  to 
do,  or  he  will  deny  his  faith." 

"  And  if  he  be  faithful  to  this  duty  and  attentive 
to  his  responses,  whatever  word  the  world  may 
write  upon  his  work,  whether  it  be  failure  or  success, 
what  judgment  will  be  pronounced  above,  think  you, 
Charmides  ?  " 

"  Doubtless,  it  will  be  that  best  of  welcomes, 
Ulysses,  in  which  our  Lord  shall  say  :  '  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of 
thy  Lord.' " 

•  "Mr.  Solomon  Love  is  a  saint  of  sixty,  Charmides. 
He  is  known  as  the  idealistic  carpenter,  and  is 
thought  on  all  sides  to  be  a  'crank,'  harmless,  good- 
natured  and  industrious,  but  nevertheless  a  'crank.' 
Mr.  Solomon  Love  is  never  conscious  of  perpetrating 
a  pun,  and  is  as  guiltless  as  a  Mahommedan  of  a  joke. 
His  conversation  is  ''yea,  yea,  nay,  nayj  direct,  and 
shorn  of  superfluities.  He  attends  strictly  to  his  own 
business,  and  lets  other  people's  alone  (a  rare  virtue, 
Charmides).  He  speaks  ill  of  no  man,  and  has  a 
kind  word  for  all. 

"  He  is  so  simple  and  old-fashioned  as  to  believe  in 
an  ever-present  God  who  takes  an  interest  in  human 
affairs,  and  in  his,  Solomon  Love's,  daily  and  hourly 
pursuits;  and  he  is  so  sincere  in  his  worship  and 
simple-minded  in  his  service  as  to  believe  that  his 
God  gives  him  help  when  he  asks  for  it,  answers  him 
when  he  prays. 

"  When  he  walks  the  streets  his  head  is  erect  and 
his  eye  fixed,  as  though  he  saw  things  unutterable 
in  the  thin  air,  and  yet,  if  accosted,  he  is  immedi- 
ately conscious  of  his  surroundings,  and  gives  and 
takes,  on  the  instant,  in  tenseness  of  personality. 

"  He  owes  no  man  anything  in  the  current,  coin 
of  his  country,  but  keeps  011  hand  that  perpetual 


310  TtlE  OPAL  QVEEtf. 

debt,  which  is  the  only  one  that  the  Bible  recognizes 
as  paying  interest  in  heavenly  coin ;  in  order  to  dis- 
charge this,  he  is  '  instant  in  season  and  out  of 
season  '  in  giving  from  his  scanty  store  to  supply  a 
neighbor's  want,  lending  a  helping  hand  whenever 
the  cry  of  distress  reaches  his  ear. 

"  When  he  rises  in  the  morning  his  gratitude  for 
the  night's  mercies  ascends  in  spoken  words  to  the 
•throne  of  the  Highest. 

"  When  he  enjoys  the  luxury  of  his  morning  bath, 
he  lifts  up  the  silent  prayer,  '  Wash  me  and  I  shall 
be  clean,  cleanse  me  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than 
snow.'. 

"As  he  dons  his  attire,  'So,  O  Father,  clothe  me 
with  the  garment  of  righteousness.' 

"As  he  builds  his  fire,  'Come,  Holy  Spirit,  kindle 
a  living  llame  of  sacred  love  upon  the  altar  of  my 
heart.' 

"  As  he  beholds  the  rising  sun,  '  Arise,  Sun  of 
Righteousness  and  shine  in  my  heart,' — this  is  the 
language  of  his  soul. 

"  As  he  goes  about  his  daily  avocation,  '  Let  right- 
eousness be  laid  to  the  line,  and  justice  to  the  plum- 
met, that  all  my  dealings  may  be  upright  in  Thy 
sight  and  squared  according  to  Thy  word.' 

"  So  he  goeth  about. 

"So  they  go  about — for  there  are  two  of  them—- 
and the  likeness  of  one  is  that  of  the  Son  of  God ! 

"  Such  are  the  silent  breathings  of  this  quaint, 
orderly  soul.  Such  is  the  spirit  of  his  daily  and 
hourly  utterances— heard  only  in  Heaven — which, 
rising  in  the  sweet  incense  of  worship  to  the  Father's 
throne,  causes  the  angel  to  inscribe  in  the  Book  of 
Remembrance  this  golden  record  against  the  name 
of  Solomon  Love. 

" '  Thy  prayers  and  thine  alms  are  come  up  as  a 
memorial  before  God.' 

"  Below  these  two  types  of  soul-workers  -the  type 
of  the  highest  consecration  where  the  work  is  all  for 
God,  and  that  where  the  daily  labor,  primarily  for 


THIRD  EXAMINATION.  3.1l 

self,  is  consecrated  to  God — lies  the  great  mass  of 
humanity.  Below  the  two  are  unnumbered  grades 
in  which  the  selfish  worker  forms  the  largest  class. 
The  average  man  works  for  self  directly,  while  pray- 
ing for  blessings  to  come  through  his  work  indirectly 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  His  kingdom. 

ki  That  is,  the  average  Christian  man  when  he  is 
not  under  special  pressure  for  gospel-work. 

"I  am  addressing,  it  is  fair  to  suppose,  the  average 
Christian.  Let  us  consider  the  subject  with  candor 
to  see  where  we  stand  ;  for  assuredly  if  we  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  manner  in  which  we  perform  our 
duties,  it  is  important  that  we  understand  the  best 
way.  If  \ve  are  ready  to  believe  that  a  Guiding 
Spirit  has  been  vouchsafed  unto  any  man,  then  why 
not  to  each  one  of  us,  who  has  a  desire  to  be  guided 
by  the  Spirit  of  Truth  ? 

"If  of  a  truth  'God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,' 
but  'giveth  liberally'  to  him  that  asketh,  then  we 
may,  each  one  of  us,  safely  calculate  upon  this  guid- 
ance, so  long  as  we  follow  '  the  voice.'  Under  such 
guidance,  we  have  minds  illuminated  for  our  special 
tasks,  and  will  learn  to  know  ourselves  better,  and 
what  we  are  capable  of  aspiring  to,  and  what  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  attain. 

"  Work,  then,  ever  in  this  devout  spirit,  and  God 
will  help  you  in  your  search  for  truth  and  your  effort 
to  proclaim  it  to  the  world. 

"The  great  Chalmers  said  the  truth  of  Christianity 
is  'all  written  in  us  already  in  sympathetic  ink;  the 
Bible  awakens  it,  and  you  can  read.'  Take  then 
this  glorious  Bible  as  your  text-book  of  faith  and 
practice,  for  it  contains  the  science  of  Life  with 
many  wise  lessons  on  the  science  of  Death." 


312  THE  OPAL 


CHAPTER  VI. 
LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANB. 

DEAR  ARTHUR  : 

You  may  imagine  me  now  completely  transformed 
by  my  "familiar  spirit,"  who  is  in  quiet  possession 
of  the  "house  I  live  in."  Listen  to  my  breathings. 

As  I  take  my  bread  I  say,  '"May  I  have  breadth  of 
vision  to-day  so  that  I  may  portray,  not  only  the 
central  object,  but  all  the  accessories  in  the  biography 
of  Joan  d'A'rc." 

As  I  pour  my  wine  I  sigh,  "  Give  me  an  easy  flow 
of  spirits." 

As  I  sip  my  tea,  "  May  I  teacli  only  right  prin- 
ciples." 

As  I  carve  the  jolly  mutton  roast,  "  Fill  me  with 
the  marrow  and  fatness  of  the  truth  that  nourishes 
the  soul." 

As  I  don  my  overcoat  and  "arctics,"  "So  may  I 
put  on  Timothy  Titcomb,  Joshua  Geddes,  Becky 
Sharp,  Daniel  Webster," — or  whatever  the  selected 
character  may  be  for  the  day's  meditations. 

As  I  take  off  my  scarf  I  breathe,  "So  rid  me  of  the 
bonds  of  slavish  custom  or  fashion,  bound  like  a  yoke 
upon  my  neck;"  and  as  I  doff  my  clothing  for  the 
night,  "So  may  I  put  the  world  off  and  under  my 
feet." 

As  I  scan  a  man's  physiognomy  for  the  impress  of 
thought  or  emotion,  "  So  quiz  me,  O  spirit  that 
sittestin  the  inmost  innermost  sanctuary  of  my  being, 
and  evolve  new  creations." 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  1)OANE.  3J3 

As  I  drive  my  tandem  team,  "So  may  I  cut  along 
the  highway  of  literature  with  singleness  and  speed." 
Note — Singleness  may  be  defined  originality  with- 
out much  straining  of  the  etymology. 

Let  me  hear  your  opinion  on  this  lecture  very 
soon.  I  give  you  permission  to  dissect  the  lecture  to 
your  heart's  content,  so  you  send  the  analysis  to 

Yours  faithfully, 

CHANNING. 


314  THE  OPAL  QtfEEX. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LETTER    TO   ARTHUR   DOANE. 

I 

IT  is  a  lucky  thing  for  me,  clear  Art,  that  I  have 
your  patient  sun-burnt,  left-hand  ear,  to  pour  my 
biographical  woes  into  while  I  am  making  this  climb 
up  Fame's  steep !  I  am  positive  that  I  thus  work  off 
some  of  the  superfluous  bottles  of  my  wrath,  which 
might  otherwise  be  poured  out  upon  the  devoted 
heads  that  are  to  me  the  dearest  in  all  the  world. 
Now  1  grow  tender,  but  truly,  Arthur,  I  hope  I  may 
be  spared  such  an  awful  catastrophe — for  if  their 
hopes  are  blighted  in  regard  to  me,  I  solemnly 
believe  it  will  kill  them.  So  I  ask  you,  best  of 
chums,  to  help  me  be  patient,  and  to  spare  your 
gentle  irony  and  mock  heroics,  for  their  sakes. 

The  suggestion  that  the  town  authorities  better 
see  to  it  that  the  Professor  isn't  much  on  the  streets 
in  company,  lest  his  phenomenally  musical  voice  en- 
danger the  flagging,  and  put  them  under  constant 
heavy  expense  for  repairs,  is  one  of  the  most  valu- 
able and  timely  that  you  make,  and  shall  be  duly 
considered. 

But,  joking  apart,  as  I  was  saying,  I  feel,  when 
writing  to  you,  that  I  am,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
clearing  up  some  of  the  rubbish  that  would  other- 
wise block  up  the  door  of  my  mental  apartments — for 
with  you  I  am  candid,  with  you,  I  am  sincere  to  a 
fault ;  and  so  this  little  ventilation  of  my  real  self 
(I  confess  it  is  little)  imparts  tone  to  my  artificial 
self. 

But  this  is  far  away  from  the  subject  on  the  tip  of 


LETTER  TO  AUTttVU  DOANE.  315 

my  pen  when  I  commenced  this  letter.  I  give  you 
fall  liberty  to  laugh  and  crack  your  sides,  until 
you  are  as  bruised  as  a  prize-fighter— I  laughed  my- 
self abundantly,  at  the  time  and  out  of  the  time. 

The  Professor  examined  to-day  on  "  The  Spirit 
which  should  animate  an  Author,"  and  at  the  close, 
he  said  that  if  the  class  wished  to  be  successful",  and 
considered  him  responsible  for  their  success,  it  would 
be  necessary  for  each  and  every  student  to  sub- 
scribe to  certain  conditions  and  adhere  to  certain 
regulations  of  a  very  positive  nature.  The  fellows 
began  to  grow  uneasy  and  look  at  each  other  doubt- 
fully— finally,  Ruskin  ventured  to  inquire  if  we 
were  to  be  put  upon  oath.  (Ruskin's  Greek  name  is 
Charmides.) 

"Not  upon  oath,  gentlemen,  but  upon  honor,"  was 
the  Professor's  reply.  "  I  am  willing  to  sever  the  re- 
lations existing  between  myself  and  any  man  who 
does  not  care  enough  for  the  art  of  literature,  to  as- 
sume these  obligations,"  he  said  majestically,  "and  I 
will  do  it  now  or  not  at  all." 

Not  a  fellow  rose  to  claim  his  ticket  of  exit. 

Seeing  which,  the  Professor  continued  with  com- 
manding assurance  : 

"  And  if  lie  fail  to  fulfill  the  obligations,  be  sure 
his  crime  will  find  him  out.  '  Many  are  the  wand- 
bearers,  but  few  are  the  true  Bacchanals!'  This 
secret  that  I  now  give  you  is  not  only  a  test  of  con- 
science, but  upon  its  faithful  observance,  success 
will  depend.  Whoever  fails,  stigmatizes  himself  at 
once  as  the  coward  that  was  too  mean  to  be  true, 
and  too  lazy  to  be  victorious." 

This  was  getting  solemn,  I  assure  you,  Art,  and  if 
you  could  have  seen  his  grave  and  impressive  dignity, 
and  have  heard  the  concealed  passion  of  his  tones, 
you  would  have  trembled  for  the  soul  and  body  of 
your  old  chum.  He  said  that  he  would  again  give 
any  one  an  opportunity  to  depart,  but  not  one 
of  the  twenty  devotees  stirred.  This  mystery  had 
awakened  their  curiosity,  and  they  had  too  much 


316  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

pluck  to  give  in  now.  A  smile  of  approbation 
gleamed  on  the  Professor's  face  as  he  said,  "  Well 
done,  my  men,  you  agree  to  stand  up  for  your  colors, 
and  shall  have  the  flag  and  the  motto ;  and  re- 
member, when  I  tell  you,  that  your  fame  and  your 
fortune  are  both  secure." 

But  in  order  to  appreciate  the  dramatic  move- 
ment and  situation  of  the  next  act,  you  should  have 
been  with  us  on  the  bench. 

Throwing  the  weight  of  his  body  forward,  just 
enough  to  impose  his  personality  upon  us  in  a  newly 
awakened  sense  of  our  vassalage,  looking  at  us  from 
underneath  his  shaggy  brows  with  his  peculiar, 
Socratic  stare,  and  gesturing  with  a  continuous 
"  Thou-art-the-man  "  shake  of  .his  index  finger — 
which  each  man  of  us,  I  am  convinced,  interpreted 
as  a  warning  to  his  individual  self — he  administered 
to  us — the  oath,  I  was  about  to  say ;  and  by  Dox, 
Art,  we  felt  as  solemn  and  knew  it  to  be  as  binding, 
as  if  it  were  one — he  announced  our  platform  of 
action  while  in  pursuit  of  literature.  I  cannot  give 
you  the  exact  text,  but  the  substance  of  it  is,  that 
wherever  we  are,  whatever  we  are  engaged  in,  with 
whomsoever  we  are  conversing,  when  the  ''divine 
afflatus  "  seizes  us,  if  it  be  only  so  much  as  a  tiny 
zephyr,  bearing  upon  a  theme  under  consideration, 
we  are  immediately  to  cage  it,  commit  it  to  paper-- 
this  rule  to  be  binding  for  three  months.  In  conclud- 
ing, he  gave  with  striking  effect  Socrates's  last  charge 
to  Crito: 

"  And  if  you  take  heed  to  yourselves  and  try  to  fol- 
low in  the  path  which  I  have  now 'pointed  out,  you 
will,  whatever  you  do,  render  to  me  and  mine  and 
your  own  selves  a  service,  even  if  you  do  not  make 
any  promise  now." 

Thus  are  we  armed,  dear  Art,  in  this  rigid  panoply 
of  virtue,  and,  with  fellows  who  have  temperaments 
like  mine,  no  other  watchword  could  be  as  sacred  or 
inspiring  as  this  one  with  which  we  are  entrusted— 
"  Be  true  to  thyself !  " 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  31J 

"But  here  is  another  tragedy,"  you  say — "when 
is  he  coming  to  the  farce  ?  I  see  nothing  in  all  this 
to  make  me  'laugh  and  crack  my  sides.'  ' 

Have  patience,  Art,  this  is  all  preliminary,  I  grant. 
But  now,  at  this  juncture  of  affairs,  I  shall  vote  you 
a  first-class  dullard  if  you  cannot  scent  the  game — 
the  jolliest  fun — from  afar. 

The  fellows  were  recounting  their  haps  and  mis- 
haps, yesterday,  in  the  lecture-room,  before  hours. 

Leighton  Smith  (you  remember  his  tall,  gaunt 
figure)  came  stalking  in  with  a  memorandum  book 
under  each  arm,  a  quire  or  so  of  paper  in  his  hand, 
sundry  rolls  peering  out  of  divers  pockets,  and  capped 
the  climax  by  scattering  scribbled  sheets,  that  blew 
all  over  the  room  when  he  doffed  his  beaver — with 
the  exception  of  two,  that  rested  in  loving  benedic- 
tion on  the  top  of  his  pate.  It  was  the  exaggerated 
picture  of  what  each  one  of  us  had  been  doing,  a  little 
more  sub  rosa.  Each  "  Lemon  "  saw  himself  in  cari- 
cature. The  mirth  was  uproarious  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  then  the  dyke  being  burst,  the  stream  of  confi- 
dential talk  flowed  rapidly  in  a  current  of  surprising 
complications,  ludicrous  situations  and  awkward 
dilemmas,  that  our  new  rule  had  sprung  upon  us,  in 
loyalty  to  the  master.  The  hour  supposed  to  be 
devoted  to  grave  discussions  was  enlivened  by  the 
humor  and  wit  residing  in  the  "Lemons,"  as  one  by 
one  they  owned  up  to  "  having  been  there  !  " 

Herbert  Ruskin  was  walking,  under  a  cloudless, 
moon-ruling  sky,  to  see  his  Dulcinea— thoughts  all  in 
embryo  ;  good,  solid  material,  but  not  enough  devel- 
oped for  the  pencil  yet — it  being  also  very  much  to 
his  mind  to  keep  tliem  in  that  rudimentary  state — 
when  suddenly,  in  the  ensuing,  expectant  pause,  just 
after  the  gong  had  sounded  at  his  sweetheart's  door, 
sentence  after  sentence  came  trooping  in — swooping 
down  upon  him  like  the  Assyrian  upon  the  Jew — 
with  clearness  and  power.  Out  came  the  note-book, 
in  went  the  ideas  ;  and  the  fair  one  declares  that  she 
stood  full  five  minutes  at  the  entrance  vainly  waiting 


318  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

for  recognition,  heart  all  in  a  flutter  with  the  fear 
that  her  Herbert  had  gone  stark  mad  ! 

Gard  Swift,  in  a  somber  turn  of  mind,  threw  him- 
self into  the  tousorial  chair  for  the  removal  of  his 
whiskers,  and  instead  of  indulging  the  professor  of  the 
ancient  and  honorable  art  of  shaving  in  his  traditional 
and  hereditary  rights  of  gossip  and  chit-chat,  main- 
tained a  moody  silence,  but  out  of  that  silence 
thoughts  did  grow  (in  flat  contradiction  of  the 
axiom,  "  Out  of  nothing,  nothing  can  come  ").  He 
recognized  the -whisper  of  the  Muse  and  essayed — the 
glittering  blade  still  athwart  his  face — to  repay  this 
little  mark  of  her  confidence  with  a  verbatim  report 
of  her  communication;  snatched  a  pencil  from  his 
vest,  and  was  making  fair  headway,  when,  feeling 
some  sharpness  on  his  cheek  and  impeded  by  the 
lively  flow  of  carnation  liquid,  he  rose  to  seek  a  posi- 
tion more  favorable" to  his  undertaking;  the  artist 
with  infinite  disgust  meanwhile  exclaiming,  "  Why 
you  are  only  Aa(fshaved,  man  !  "  u  Half  or  quarter," 
said  the  undaunted  Swift,  "  take  your  next  victim— 
I'll  see  you  later  !  "  And  he  sat  on  a  lay  chair,  a 
diligent  scribe,  in  that  picturesque  state  of  semi-bar- 
berism,  much  to  the  entertainment  of  the  increasingly 
dense  crowd  of — customers  (?). 

One  fellow  missed  the  train,  another  was  carried 
thirty  miles  beyond  his  destination,  a  third  lost  his 
breakfast ;  a  fourth  was  at  a  dinner  party,  when  the 
cacoethes  scribendi  got  possession,  and  instead  of  turn- 
ing red — as  any  sensible  man  ought  to  have  done, 
when  he  begged  the  indulgence  of  the  hostess  in  a 
few  minutes'  absence  from  the  table — he  became  as 
pale  as  Hamlet's  ghost.  The  frightened  hostess  fol- 
lowed him,  the  guests  sprang  from  their  seats,  and 
altogether  a  first-class  panic  was  on  the  eve  of  in- 
auguration, before  he  could  convince  them  that  he 
was  well,  or  tint  his  alabaster  with  just  the  shade  re- 
quired by  the  exacting  guests  (cheated  out  of  their 
bit  of  excitement)  to  insure  him  against  a  faintingfit, 
and  to  assure  the  hostess  that  he  had  sufficient  vital- 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  319 

ity  to  resume  mastication.  Of  course,  the  immediate 
necessity  for  writing  was  over ;  the  muse  deserted — 
skedaddled,  as  any  decent  muse  would,  when  her  in- 
trenchment  was  stormed  like  that.  According  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief,  dear  chum,  Muses 
don't  enjoy  a  melSe  ! 

Not  to  weary  you  with  all  the  dramatic  situations 
that  came  to  light,  I  will  give  you  only  two  more — 
quorum  pars  mayna  fui.  And  I  am  sure.  Art,  you 
will  say  I  have  taken  the  palm — my  own  thoughts 
and  the  lack  of  them  furnishing  the  most  ludicrous 
accessories  of  all  the  dramas.  And  as  we  usually 
find  the  deepest  pathos  underlying  the  purest  humor, 
I  think  you  will  discover  that  element  also — at  least, 
myself  being  judge,  it  was  liquidly  pathetic  ! 

Like  the  ancient  Romans,  I  am  fond  of  my  bath, 
and  a  nicely  perfumed  one  at  that.  In  the  absence 
of  Numidian  slaves  in  this  era  of  history.  I  install 
myself  as  attendant,  and  honor  myself  with  the  title, 
of  Private  Cleaner,  bre vetted  General  Scrubber  to 
His  Highness  C.  Earle,  Esq.  I  am  lazy  enough  to  en- 
joy this  aquatic  luxury  (which  I  can  conscientiously 
indulge  in  as  a  pre-requisite  for  health  and  happi- 
ness) to  such  a  degree,  that  I  have  been  in  the  habit 
—while  absorbing  as  much  of  the  element  as  possible 
through  my  two  and  a  half  million  pores — of  poising 
my  head  upon  the  marble  rest,  and  weaving  fancies 
out  of  home-spun  theories,  iridescent  air-castles,  and 
the  like.  Forgetful,  at  the  particular  moment  to 
which  your  attention  is  now  invited,  of  the  inexor- 
able law  that  is  bound  like  Solomon's  fillet  around  my 
forehead  (I  fear,  Art,  that  before  long  it  will  hang 
like  Coleridge's  albatross  around  my  neck  ;  in  which 
case  I  may  find  some  difficulty  in  preserving  the  bal- 
ance of  power,  the  weight  of  the  new  member  from 
Feather-land  would  so  endanger  my  autonomy),  I 
fell  into  my  usual  dreamy  speculations  ;  when  lo  ! 
in  the  midst  of  them,  and  I  in  medias  res,  who  should 
appear  but  Her  Ladyship,  with  some  really  valuable 
suggestions;  and  mark  you,  simultaneously  (how 


320  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

convenient  a  treacherous  memory  would  h:ive  been 
just  then  !  ),  the  apparition  of  Le  Monboddo  !  What 
could  I  do?  I  had  no  wand  with  which  to  conjure 
writing  materials,  and  I  had  no  bell  !  Of  all  places 
in  the  house,  the  bath-room  should  be  furnished  with 
bells  !  But  in  our  Arcadian  simplicity,  before  life  had 
become  complex  under  the  Monboddo  dispensation, 
we  had  managed  our  larynxes  with  admirable  agility 
and  effect. 

With  a  swash  that  sounded,  in  my  fretted  ear,  like 
an  imprecation  on  all  professors  of  the  "  New  Art  of 
Design  in  Literature,"  and  this  one  in  particular,  I 
arose,  like  "Venus  from  the  sea"  (dripping,  but 
without  my  shell),  stood  beside  the  transom,  and 
called — not  too  loud,  for  fear  of  startling  "Superba" 
and  all  the  household  gods  and  goddesses ;  then 
louder  and  with  some  sharpness  ;  still  again,  in  a 
high,  imperious  key:  between  the  pauses,  conning 
over  the  suggested  idea  and  coaxing  Her  Highness  to 
stay  ;  which  she,  indeed,  in  the  delay  and  uncertainty 
(finding  me  forewarned  but  not  forearmed),  was  little 
pleased  to  do,  and  would  have  utterly  disappeared, 
had  I  not  held  her  in  the  vanishing  distance  by  a 
fold  of  her  fluttering  robe.  Still  no  reply  to  my 
summons;  I — well,  I  am  sorry  to  confess  to  you  that 
by  this  time  I  was  desperate — I  fairly  yelled, 
"'Superba!" 

The  dear  soul  heard  on  the  instant — having  been 
somewhat  prepared,  I  imagine,  by  previous  inroads 
upon  the  silence  when  "  Phillis!  Phillis  !  "  was  caus- 
ing sundry  unaccountable  concussions  in  the  atmos- 
phere around  her — and  a  sweet  voice  called  outside, 
"  What  is  it,  dear?" 

Of  course  you  can  guess  the  rest,  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  wrote  in  the  bath  !  I  leave  your  imagination  at 
work  on  my  "  exposures  "  (as  the  photographist 
terms  the  sittings  of  his  subject)  and  all  the  ele- 
mentary steps  in  the  picture  ;  my  spasmodic  efforts 
to  preserve  the  lines  of  perpendicular,  base,  and  hori- 
zontal, after  I  had  "established"  them;  the  coup 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR    DOANE.  321 

d'etat,  by  which  I  marked  my  "  dominant"  (revers- 
ing  my  position  in  the  marble  boat,  and  thus  getting 
the  one  point  of  light  on  my  paper  that  the  darkened 
window  furnished)  ;  and  then  the  altogether  playful 
but  vexing  and  almost  hopeless  entanglement  of 
"  values "  of  outlines  and  texture  with  values  of 
thought  and  expression. 

But  not  satisfied  witli  my  departure  on  aesthetic  lines 
during  the  day,  I  got  on  the  rampage  at  night ;  this, 
the  most  gay  and  festive  scene  of  all,  I  must  reserve 
for  the  next  letter.  Meantime  believe  me, 

Faithfully  yours, 

CHAN. 


322  TUE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

FOURTH  "  EXAMINATION  " — PLOTS  AND  DEVELOP- 
MENT OF  THE  NOVEL — STUDY  OF  CHARACTER- 
DRAWING. 

"  TELL  me,  Critias,  do  you  consider  the  plot  of  a 
novel  the  most  important  concern  of  the  author?" 

"  Probably  this  is  true,  Ulysses ;  for,  with  well- 
sustained  characters,  an  intricate  plot  insures  the 
deepening  interest  of  the  reader." 

"  But  do  you  not  consider  racy  sketchiness,  with 
an  underlying  sense  of  keen  humor,  often  as  satisfac- 
tory for  entertainment?  " 

"  In  such  writings,  Ulysses,  we  are  not  kept  on 
the  qui  vive  of  expectation  and  surmise,  and  so  lose 
one  agreeable  feature  of  entertainment,  that  is, 
prolonged  curiosity.  There  may  be  greater  mo- 
mentary excitement,  but  not  the  quiet,  steady  stream 
of  pleasure,  it  seems  to  .me,  that  accompanies  an 
elaborated  plot.  Purely  humorous  literature  laughs 
at  plots  and  all  the  heavy  scaffolding  of  the  regulation 
novel  as  so  much  useless  lumber.  It  uses  caricature, 
or  fantastic  spelling,  or  an  incongruous  setting  of  ideas 
in  contrast  or  association  so  as  to  make  pictures  of 
the  ludicrous.  I  know  of  no  quality,  Critias,  which 
seems  so  essentially  a  part  of  the  birthright  principle 
as  the  faculty  of  producing/Vm  in  literature.  It  can 
be  cultivated,  without  doubt,  but  the  germs  are  large 
at  the  outset,  in  every  successful  humorist.  Noth- 
ing falls  so  flat  as  labored,  humor.  Upon  this  topic 
I  have  no  advice  to  give  you,  or  next  to  none.  If 
surprising  comparisons,  ludicrous  from  their  very 


FOURTH  EXAMINATION.  323 

oddity,  exaggerated  fancies  and  strange,  unsus- 
pected resemblances  continually  present  themselves, 
so  that  the  mind  views  everything  in  grotesque, 
distorted,  yet  mirth-provoking  lights,  give  them  the 
rein,  and  see  where  they  will  lead  you — for  there 
are  one  hundred  consumers  of  mirth  to  one  pro- 
ducer. But,  by  all  that  is  fitting,  orderly  and 
decent,  do  not  try  to  be  witty  in  writing  without 
the  gift — success  is  flatly  impossible.  The  profes- 
sional zany,  by  long  practice,  understands,  not  only 
his  own  tricks,  but  the  degree  of  relish  in  his  audi- 
ence, and  adapts  his  eccentricities  to  their  palate." 

"  Do  you  find  some  pleasure,  Critias,  in  novels 
whose  plots  are  prophecies  of  the  possible  or  visions 
of  the  plausible  ?  " 

"  I  would  so  consider  Jules  Verne's  stones, 
Ulysses,  and  they  are  a  source  of  fine  entertainment. 
In  these,  scientific  research  is  pushed  into  the  regions 
of  the  imagination,  but  so  subjected  to  philosophic 
laws,  that  no  appearance  of  absurdity  is  suggested, 
and  the  love  of  the  marvellous  is  gratified  by  the 
astounding  effects  of  exaggerated  truth  ;  large  specu- 
lations are  also  aroused  as  to  the  probability  of 
practical  science  ever  reaching  so  high  a  plane.  It 
seems  no  extraordinary  thing  for  Cj^rtis  Harding 
on  the  Mysterious  Island  to  furnish  himself  with 
clothing  and  all  the  necessaries  of  life  out  of  the 
natural  products  of  the  earth  around  him,  through 
acquaintance  with  the  laws  of  chemistry  and  the 
applied  sciences,  so  ingenious  and  subtle  are  the 
devices  of  this  philosophy,  operating  in  the  region  of 
the  unknown." 

"  Doubtless  he  does  get  amusement  of  a  pure  and 
high  type,  Critias,  but,  as  the  reader  is  prepared  for 
impossible  projects  and  miraculous  adventures,  is  not 
the  valuable  philosophy  and  scientific  information 
given  in  such  plots  of  little  benefit  to  him — that  is, 
without  profit,  instruction  ?  " 

"It  appears  to  me,  Ulysses,  that  the  reader  is  en- 
trenched in  'Doubting  Castle,'  where  he  expects 


324  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

everything  and  concedes  everything,  but  believes 
nothing." 

"Tell  me,  then,  Critias,  whether  you  think  the 
novel  with  a  purpose  of  solid  instruction  for  its  basis 
— whereby  alone  it  had  a  call  into  existence — is  cap- 
tivating to  the  average  reader  ?  " 

"  With  an  occasional  exception,  Ulysses,  I  find 
them  dull.  For  the  general  reader  nothing  suits  so 
well,  it  seems  to  me,  as  an  abandon  of  research  or 
debate,  and  a  happy  rest  in  an  enchanted  land  of  ease 
and  refreshment.  k  Ethics  of  the  Dust '  is  a  delightful 
dialogue,  giving  chemical  instruction  in  a  novel  way, 
but  it  does  not  rise  to  the  rank  of  a  novel.  Almost 
every  novel  has  some  purpose,  if  the  author  is  an 
earnest  man,  and  in  many  a  reformatory  or  correc- 
tive spirit  is  apparent.  'Hannah'  inveighs  against 
the  unnatural  law  forbidding  marriage  with  the 
deceased  wife's  sister.  '  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend '  is 
a  powerful  protest  against  'solitary  confinement,' 
and  one  object  of  '  Our  Mutual  Friend '  was,  no 
doubt,  to  unmask  the  evils  of  the  Poor-house  sj'stem. 
There  are  many  in  which  we  find  historical  or  bio- 
graphical information,  but  if  you  refer  to  the  teaching 
of  practical  and  scientific  truth,  I  think  it  is  confined 
chiefly  to  children's  literature  ;  in  which  line  nothing 
has  been  produced  superior  to  the  'Hollo  Books.' 
'The  History  of  a  Mouthful  of  Bread'  takes  one 
through  a  charming  physiological  ramble,  but  it, 
again,  is  a  dialogue,  or,  in  fact,  a  monologue  rather 
than  a  novel." 

"  And  is  it  not  true,  Critias,  that  the  plots  which 
furnish  acceptable  recreation,  which  beguile  without 
tedium,  and  refresh  without  worry,  are  founded  on 
scenes  of  love  and  scenes  of  travel?" 

"Scarcely  is  a  novel  glanced  at,  Ulysses,  much 
less  will  it  pass  the  fiery  ordeal  of  public  criticism, 
unless  it  be  panoplied  with  one  or  both  of  these 
armor  suits." 

"  You  say  well,  Critias ;  and  such  are  indeed  proof 
against  most  of  the  shafts  that  are  hurled  against 


FO  Uli  Til  EX  A  MINA  TIG  .V.  325 

them.  Of  course  the  love  scenes  must  be  drawn  by 
a  master,  who  will  give  us  a  real  and  not  a  make- 
believe  love,  for  no  shams  are  tolerated  here  ;  and 
there  is  little  necessity  for  a  poor  imitation,  for  al- 
though it  is  the  most  valuable  of  earth's  possessions, 
it  is  found  in  rich  abundance  and  countless  varieties 
of  the  one  pure  and  indivisible  essence — out  of  which, 
or  the  want  of  which,  all  human  experiences  grow, 
bear  fruit,  fade,  and  fall  ;  so  that,  in  order  to  graft 
this  bud  of  human  activity  in  your  story,  your  own 
heart  must  not  only  be  an  orchard  weighted  down 
with  rich  fruitage,  but  you  must  have  a  nursery 
as  well,  full  of  cuttings  and  seedlings — the  out- 
come of  trial,  sorrow,  and  tears  from  the  harvest  of 
your  rich  experience.  So  will  you  have  a  lever  of 
power  to  lift  the  hearts  of  men.  You  need  to  be 
tried  as  the  gold,  in  the  crucible  of  sorrow ;  smitten 
like  the  reed  by  the  blast  of  disappointment;  pros- 
trated like  the  oak  by  the  tornado  of  misfortune  ; — 
then  you  will  be  prepared  for  universal  sympathy 
with  men.  What  you  want,  what  you  must  have,  is 
a  good  sound  scorching  in  the  flames  of  love,  and  a 
-sharp  crisping  in  the  furnace  of  affliction,  then  out  of 
your  new  growth  you  will  find  a  touch-stone  for 
other  hearts." 

"  Is  it  not  your  opinion,  Ulysses,  that  stories 
founded  upon  legendary  plots  and  bits  of  traditionary 
gossip  or  history  furnish  a  wide  field  for  successful 
effort?" 

"  Assuredly,  Achilles,  for  Shakespeare  and  Scott 
have  elevated  the  flag  of  conquest  on  those  fields, 
and  are  undisputed  sovereigns  in  their  territory.  A 
love  of  the  marvelous  is  inborn,  and  strange,  wild 
deeds  of  erratic  people,  antiquated  customs  and 
dialects,  unexplored  and  unvisited  regions,  the  odd- 
ities of  a  different  civilization,  or  even  the  polite 
barbarism  of  an  uncultivated  era,  all  have  a  unique 
charm — especially  when,  with  the  unfamiliar 
elements  which  stimulated  the  curiosity,  there  is  in- 
fused this  alchemy  of  love  which  transmutes  whatever 


326  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

it  touches  into  shining  colors.  More  study  of  the 
localities  and  the  people  are  required  for  such  produc- 
tions, and  the  best  way  is  to  visit  the  scenes." 

"  But  was  not  '  Roinola '  the  production  of  an  un- 
travelled  Englishwoman,  Ulysses  ?  " 

"  You  very  properly  remind  me,  Critias,  that 
'Romola,' as  well  as  some  other  successful  foreign 
subjects,  have  been  treated  by  authors  who  never 
left  their  native  coasts,  but  this  is  only  another  proof 
of  the  good  results  of  persevering  study." 

"As  truth  is  ever  stranger  than  fiction,  Critobulus, 
could  not  the  wildest  dream  of  an  author  be  dupli- 
cated or  surpassed  in  real  life  ?  " 

"Certainly,  Ulysses,  if  it  is  within  the  range  of 
possibility." 

"And  will  not,  then,  the  incidents  of  common  life 
furnish  plots  for  our  novels  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,  Ulysses,  ad  infinitum,  and  I  had 
almost  said  that  they  do  so  ad  nauseam.  There  is 
no  brain  so  ingenious,  no  invention  'so  skilful,  as  to 
be  able  to  cheat  Nature  out  of  her  championship  in 
this  field." 

"  Were  the  principal  personage  of  a  tale,  a  young 
man  who  is  equally  in  love  with  two  fair  girls  and 
they  in  turn  equally  captivated  with  him  and  the 
recipients  of  letters  of  devotion  which  are  duplicates, 
with  a  massive  ring  of  betrothal  on  each  fair  left 
hand — the  heroines  distant,  separated  and  unac- 
quainted, and  the  denouement  accidentally  brought 
about  by  a  mutual  acquaintance  rarely  seen,  the  plot 
would  be  deemed  incredible  and  fit  only  for  the 
romance." 

"  And  yet  such  a  tragedy  has  come  to  my  personal 
knowledge.  So  original,  so  lawless  is  Reality.  Scott's 
most  celebrated  work  was  based  upon  the  story  of 
prominent  events  in  Miss  Rebecca  Gratz's  career,  as 
related  to  him  by  Washington  Irving.  He  took  the 
proud  integrity  and  unswerving  religious  faith  of 
this  reigning  beauty  for  the  nucleus  of  his  most 
perfect  character,  Rebecca,  in  '  Ivanhoe.'  " 


FOURTH  EXAMINATION.  327 

"  Is  it  possible  to  cultivate  virtue  by  contemplating 
vice  ?  Tell  me,  Critobulus,  if  you  wished  to  instruct 
a  youth  in  virtue  what  steps  you  would  take.  Would 
you  attract  his  attention  to  the  noble  and  good  among 
your  acquaintances,  and  by  pointing  out  the  benefits 
that  resulted  from  worthy  conduct  try  to  stimulate 
him  to  emulate  their  deeds?" 

"  Undoubtedly,  that  would  awaken  within  him  a 
noble  ambition,  Ulysses." 

"  And  since  in  youth  habits  are  quickly  formed 
from  observation,  would  you  consider  it  necessary  to 
banish  from  his  company  all  those  who  were  dishonest 
or  who  would  entice  him  to  follow  his  evil  passions  ?  " 

<;  Assuredly,  this  would  be  necessary,  Ulysses." 

"  Would  it  also  be  important  to  guard  him  against 
exhibitions  of  any  sort  that  would  imperil  his 
modesty  ?  " 

"  This,  too,  would  be  important,  Ulysses." 

"You  would  then  consider  low  scenes  in  'variety 
theaters  '  unproductive  of  modesty?" 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you  on  this  point,  Ulysses, 
because  what  was  at  first  disgusting  from  coarseness 
might  soon  be  relished  as  '  forbidden  fruit.'  " 

"  Do  you  think,  then,  that  vice  is  any  less  vice,  if 
it  be  presented  in  an  attractive  garb?  " 

"  Without  doubt,  it  is  more  dangerous,  Ulysses, 
when  gilded  over  so  that  its  enormities  are  not  per- 
ceived." 

"  Would  you  not  consider  those  novels  injurious, 
Critobulus,  which  bring  the  reader  into  companion- 
ship with  degraded  men  and  women,  who  have  all 
the  trappings  of  rank  and  wealth  about  them  as  well 
as  the  fascination  of  beauty  with  which  to  poison 
their  readers'  minds  ? 

"  I  should  be  indeed  ashamed  to  say  anything  in 
opposition  to  such  an  opinion,  for  I  should  say  what 
was  neither  reasonable  nor  true." 

"  Then  it  would  seem  to  you  that  those  novels 
founded  on  the  incidents  of  real  life  which  present 
secret  vice,  that  from  its  very  nature  must  be  handled 


328  TIIK  OPAL  tyUEEN. 

delicately  and  '  with  gloves,'  are  pernicious  to  the 
youth  who  is  cultivating  virtue." 

"I  must,  indeed,  believe  it,  Ulysses;  and  I  was 
reading  only  yesterday  a  case  in  point.  It  is  said 
that  the  Rev.  William  Jay,  when  a  student,  had  a 
corrupt  book  put  in  his  hands  for  fifteen  minutes. 
lie  said  many  years  after  that  he  had  never  been  able 
to  obliterate  the  impression  made  in  those  fifteen 
minutes  ;  that  he  had  wrestled  in  prayer  for  grace  to 
overcome  and  forget  utterly  and  forever  the  evil 
thoughts  then  introduced  to  his  mind,  but  without 
success." 

"And  will  you  concede  further,  Critobulus,  that 
it  is  not  unharmful  to  older  persons  who  deem  their 
morals  formed  ? — since  purity  of  mind  must  be 
impaired  by  allowing  the  imagination  even  for  a 
moment  to  consider  passively  vicious  subjects,  as 
even  the  hardest  wax  is  sullied  by  an  atom  of  soot." 

"  That  seems  also  true,  Ulysses." 

"Would  it  not  be  a  great  folly  and  misfortune 
then  to  indulge  in  reading  such  books?" 

"So  it  appears,  Ulysses.  But  what  perplexes  me 
is  that  some  of  our  best  authors  most  affect  this 
kind  of  plot." 

"Whatever  fosters  moral  indifference  or  contri- 
butes to  the  undermining  of  society,  by  stealthily 
but  gradually  removing  the  props  of  a  sound  virtue 
and  modesty,  cannot,  in  right  reason,  be  considered 
good  or  creditable  work,  Critobulus.  Truth  must 
be  our.standard  in  all  such  measurements  and  not 
public  opinion,  which  is  shifting  and  mercurial.  Most 
of  the  German  and  French  novels  pander  in  this  way 
to  depraved  taste.  Miss  Muhlback  is  no  exception 
to  this  stricture.  Brilliant  and  bewitching  as  are  the 
tales  of  royal  courts,  fascinating  descriptions  of 
princely  deviations  from  the  strict  line  of  conjugal 
fidelity  and  manly  purity  do  not  palliate  their  dis- 
grace. They  are  none  the  less  sinful  for  such  a  guise, 
and  far  more  dangerous  to  the  reader,  who  can  better 
afford  to  lose  what  glimpses  of  history  or  biography 


FOURTH  EXAMINATION.  329 

are  obtained  through  these  channels,  than  his  sensi- 
bility to  the  claims  of  virtue  and  religion." 

"Now  are  you  willing  that  we  should  consider  the 
method  of  propagating  plots,  Achilles  ?  " 

"That  is,  indeed,  what  I  most  wish  to  know, 
Ulysses." 

"  The  two  species  that  are  known  to  authors  re- 
quire different  methods  of  propagation.  If  there  is 
a  nucleus  of  fact,  a  germination  bulb  you  might 
call  it,  you  may  drop  that  into  the  hot-bed  of  your 
imagination  and  leave  it  there  for  a  time  ;  you  must 
water  and  enrich  by  study  a  dry  and  barren  soil ;  but 
if  this  has  been  previously  done  and  the  bed  is  in  an 
arable  state,  no  laborious  culture  will  be  needed  for 
familiar  products,  that  is  themes  worked  out  on 
familiar  lines,  such  as  studies  of  home  scenes  and 
characters.  It  will  grow,  I  said,  but  you  must  give 
it  some  attention.  Nourish  the  embryo  with  the  dews 
of  concentrated,  kindly  thought,  with  the  tender  air 
and  fairy  sunshine  of  day-dreams,  the  iridescent 
light  of  your  fancy,  and  the  warmth  of  your  affec- 
tions. If  you  care  for  the  tender  shoot  as  does  the 
gardener  for  his  seedlings,  if  you  love  it,  it  will  grow 
best ;  then  with  its  instinctive  perception  of  your 
attention,  it  will  repay  you  with  new  leaves  and 
blossoms  every  day.  This  species,  like  the  child's 
music  which  'sang  itself,'  she  said,  grows  itself." 

"I  am  quite  in  despair  about  any  such  growth, 
Ulysses,  for  notwithstanding  all  you  say,  I  do  not 
understand  the  modus  operandi.  Your  talk  seems 
all  figurative  to  me,  without  practical  bearings." 

"  True,  indeed,  Achilles,  it  is  like  the  child's 
music  and  comes  up  spontaneously,  so  that  it  is  inde- 
pendent of  rules.  When  you  experiment  you  will 
find  out  that  I  have,  in  fact,  given  you  the  method 
as  far  as  it  can  be  made  tangible  to  you.  It  is  not 
wholly  illusory,  but  mental  and  incommunicable 
with  exactness  of  speech.  Turn  the  thought  thus  left 
loosely  in  your  mind  over  and  over,  let  it  ramify  as 
it  will,  do  not  for  your  life  raise  a  finger  to  check  its 


330  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

development,  no  matter  bow  erratic  its  growth  may 
seem.  Be  still  and  watch  it.  When  fully  grown, 
you  may  prune  it,  dig  about  it  to  your  heart's  con- 
tent; being  well  rooted,  you  will  not  endanger  its 
life. 

"But  let  us  consider  the  cultivation  of  the  second 
species. 

"  You  have  an  aim  in  your  story,  a  noble  desire  to 
establish  some  truth  or  to  unmask  some  villainy,  or 
correct  some  folly.  This  is  worthy.  Now,  first  of  all, 
study  your  subject  :  ransack  creation  for  items, 
master  it,  be  full  of  it.  Secondly,  deliberately  choose 
your  dramatis . personce.  Your  theme  will  be  sug- 
gestive of  fitting  characters,  which  you  must  select 
with  the  view  to  the  amount  of  work  you  require 
them  to  do — this  is  for  your  prominent  actors;  the 
minor  ones  may  be  chosen  with  the  distinct  purpose 
of  giving  variety  or  affording  mirth. 

"  Your  theme  will  also  presuppose  many  local 
accompaniments.  Thus  the  modern  science  of  spiritu- 
alism requires  for  its  stage  drawing-rooms  and 
cities,  and  a  mixture  of  the  cultivated  and  ignorant 
classes,  with  a  predominance  of  superstition  in  all, 
the  educated  being  in  the  ascendency;  with  perhaps 
the  introduction  of  some  country  cousins  upon  whom 
to  experiment,  to  bewilder,  and  to  convert:  or,  if  so 
you  choose,  who  shall  by  their  strong  good  sense  and 
native  wit  reconstruct  their  city  friends,  by  recon- 
verting the  spiritualist  to  the  normal  religious  stand- 
point. 

"  Thus  with  ease  the  skeleton  of  your  plot  may 
be  framed,  subject  to  modification — a  joist  or  a  post 
more  or  less,  here  and  there,  matters  not,  for  they 
can  be  removed  and  inserted  at  pleasure. 

"  Next  for  the  visible  clothed  habitat  of  your  plot. 
Now,  as  heretofore,  you  must  depend  upon  a  mind 
freighted  with  the  collections  of  years  of  varied 
research,  to  form  your  rich  draperies  of  imagery  ;• 
strong  and  thoughtful  logic,  facts  and  fancies  being 
curiously  interwoven  with  science  and  art — you  must 


FO  UE  TH  EX  A  M1NA  TION.  33 1 

put  into  it  the  very  marrow  and  fatness  of  your 
being. 

"  Above  all  must  you  be  full  of  personalities  ;  and 
by  this  I  mean  the  rubbish  that  gathers  by  contact 
with  society  as  composed  of  individuals;- — for  this 
heterogeneous  mixture  of  bodily  and  mental  traits, 
outward  and  inward  habits  and  customs,  is  strikingly 
like  a  rubbish-heap  !  However,  it  is  a  heap  out  of 
which  you  can  stamp,  like  Pompey,  but  with  better 
result,  '  armies  to  do  your  bidding  ! '  How  has  this 
dirt-heap  accumulated?  By  your  intuitive  percep- 
tion and  the  trained  habit  of  observation. 

"I  have  now  come  to  a  fundamental  principle  in  all 
story-telling:  observation — keen,  acute,  unwearying, 
minute,  constant,  interested  observation — this  is  your 
open  sesame  to  the  avenues  of  literature.  Style  is 
important  without  doubt,  but  the  genius  of  observa- 
tion will  hew  for  itself  a  path  when  once  it  is  ready 
to  delineate  and  make  itself  heard,  because  it  has 
something  to  say;  and  though  with  scanty  education, 
the  ideas  may  not  sit  easy  in  their  lumbering' carriage, 
no  one  shall  ever  call  them  to  a  halt,  because  they 
have  the  'It'  in  them  who  is  a  veritable  Phoebus 
for  driving  over  the  world  ! 

"  This  power  of  observation  is,  it  seems  to  me,  the 
one  least  apprehended  by  the  uninitiated,  and  the  one 
that  exacts  the  most  from  the  initiated  of  all  the 
exercises  demanded  of  him — the  most  exhausting 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  pleasurable  of  all  the 
offices  that  he  is  called  upon  to  fill  in  the  pursuit  of 
his  art. 

"If  not  blest  with  a  memory  that  holds  like  wax, 
you  must  be  the  victim  of  a  memorandum-service. 
But  it  can  be  cultivated;  by  long  drilling  of  this  habit 
of  observation  the  memory  will  become  strengthened. 

•J  O 

Besides  the  memory  for  fixing  scenes,  incidents,  con- 
versations, there  is  the  prerequisite  of  impressibility, 
to  insure  a  high  order  of  talent  in  literature.  Quick 
and  fine  sensibilities,  ready  and  comprehensive  sym- 
pathies, and  a  certain  humility  or  power  of  adaptation 


332  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

to  whatsoever  circumstances  or  elements,  combine  to 
produce  this  important  quality.  The  nervous  rather 
than  the  bilious  temperament,  the  sanguine  rather 
than  the  phlegmatic,  manifest  it.  Certain  influences 
exercise  a  subtle  and  indefinable  spell  over  persons 
constituted  with  a  high  degree  of  impressibility. 

"  The  squealing  of  a  dying  pig  will  work  into  the 
text  through  an  author's  nervous  susceptibility  to 
pain  and  suffering,  and  the  occasional  but  prolonged 
nibbling  of  one  flea  disjoint  the  mental  productions 
of  the  most  patient  philosopher,  and  put  an  added 
sting  into  the  satirist's  pen. 

"  The  reading  of  a  long  and  sublime  epic  like 
Homer  or  Milton  acts  like  a  magician's  incantation 
by  awakening  the  slumbering  powers  of  poesy- 
rudimentary  and  fragmentary,  but  distinct  to  the 
one  operated  upon  in  the  rhythmic  measure  sound- 
ing through  all  the  chambers  of  his  fascinated,  pos- 
sessed brain,  and  in  the  lofty  utterances  lying  there 
in  disordered  heaps,  vague  and  mysterious.  The 
singing  bard  has  communicated  his  spirit  to  this 
reader,  and  like  the  impress  old  ocean  makes  upon 
one's  brain  on  a  long  voyage,  which  is  carried  for 
days  on  land,  these  atoms  of  the  brain  controlled  by 
this  master-spirit  continue  their  airy,  imperceptible 
dance,  long  after  the  direct  contact  with  the  master. 

"  In  like  manner,  this  invisible,  mystic  force  puts 
one  in  the  immediate  spiritual  environment,  for  the 
time  being,  with  the  character  whose  impress  we 
wish  to  take ;  a  power  of  substitution  by  which  we, 
having  studied  him  closely,  temporarily  adjust  our- 
selves to  his  thoughts,  his  life-problems — in  a  word, 
his  status — and  then  are  ready  for  his  manipulations 
upon  us  ;  we  absorb  him,  as  it  were,  and  relate  in 
this  way  his  personal  experiences.  But  this  is  no 
blind  leading;  judgment  and  skill  render  effective 
service  in  the  filling  out,  and  this  comfort  may  be 
taken  to  every  struggling  author's  soul,  that  while, 
in  the  main,  certain  lines  of  conduct  must  result 
from  certain  characteristics  of  mind  and  tempera- 


FO  Ult  Til  EX  A  M1NA  T1ON.  333 

ment,  human  nature  is  itself  so  incongruous,  incon- 
sistent, that  no  critic  would  be  justified  in  picking 
flaws  in  the  seemingly  inconsistent  characters.  It  is 
impossible  to  say  that  there  never  was  such  a  person 
as  the  author  represents,  when  real  life  abounds  iu 
such  abnormal  characters  and  such  eccentric  devia- 
tions from  the  law  of  consistency.  Still,  if  lie  keep 
the  end  of  his  art  in  view,  which  is  to  give  pleasure, 
he  will  not  create  monstrosities. 

"  Apart  from  the  study  of  good  authors  for  the  cul- 
tivation of  a  fine  style,  temperament  here  also  exer- 
cises its  sway,  and  under  any  course  of  study  stamps 
its  own  impress  upon  the  delivery  of  thought,  which 
is  manifest  over  and  above  educational  processes  and 
makes  what  we  call  individuality  of  style. 

"  For  fluency  in  speaking — and  spoken  fluency, 
though  not  as  essential  to  the  novelist  as  for  those 
engaged  in  grave  discussions  at  the  bar,  the  forum,  or 
in  deliberative  assemblies,  is  important,  for  the  reason 
that  this  literature  is  for  the  most  part  colloquial, 
and  requires  the  free  and  easy  style  of  social  converse 
— if  you  have  not  the  gift  of  language,  practice  in 
private.  Jt  is  an  immense  advantage  to  have  at  your 
command  the  right  word  at  the  right  moment,  for 
sometimes  one  clear-cut  passage  will  stand  for  a 
volume  of  thought.  Practice  on  somebody.  Perhaps 
there  is  a  convenient  wife,  and  if  docile  she  is  by  all 
odds  tl^e  best  of  the  near  relations  for  this  study. 
Daughters,  sisters,  cousins,  and  the  like  are  apt  to 
consider  a  word-fall  of  this  kind  a  bore  or  an  intru- 
sion, and  therefore  make  indifferent  listeners  for  a 
long-winded  monoloo-ue.  But  your  wife  makes  a 

-*.T 

good  victim — she  abounds  in  the  martyr  element.  No 
doubt,  all  gifted  conversationists  had  some  lamb  that 
was  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  hero  worship,  as  Johnson 
his  admiring  Bos  worth,  Goethe  his  Eckermann, 
Coleridge  his  coterie  of  friends,  and  Carlyle  his 
faithful  Jane." 

"  But,  Ulysses,  it  appears  to  me  that  you  are 
asking  too  much  ;  talent  for  originating,  talent  for 
letting  our  thought  severely  alone,  and  talent  for 


334  Tlt£  OPAL 

knowing  the  right  moment  to  .use  it,  talent  for  re- 
membering, talent  for  being  impressed,  talent  for  ob- 
serving and  talent  for  speaking — when  we  come  with 
only  raw  material  and  as  yet  no  discovered  talent  in 
these  directions." 

"I  am  glad  you  used  that  word  undiscovered, 
Achilles,  for  it  indicates  the  truth.  Without  doubt, 
these  talents  are  lying  dormant,  all  unworked.  But 
supposing  them  absent  in  the  measure  in  which  I 
have  set  them  forth,  do  not  therefore  hesitate,  my 
good  youth.  Would  you  drop  the  pen  and  give  up 
the  chase?" 

"  By  no  means,  Ulysses ;  there  is  still  hope  until 
one  has  tried  and  failed,  and  Carlyle  says  .that  being 
'once  foiled  is  nothing  like  final  defeat.'' 

"Let  us  see,  then,  what  the — we  will  not. call  it 
remedy  and  thus  imply  diseas.e  or  disorder,  but  what 
the  substitute  is  for  a  felt  want  in  these  directions. 
Are  you  willing  to  admit  that  you  can  think  and 
talk  like  a  gentleman,  Acliilles  ?  Since  all  your 
antecedents,  or  at  least  your  education  and  your 
habits,  fit  you  for  that  kind  of  exposition  ?" 

"  That  is  reasonable,  Ulysses." 

"Very  well ;  then  you  have  already  a  fund  for  the 
major  part  of  your  story,  which  should  be  in  a  high 
and  manly  tone.  If  }rou  find  difficulty  in  making 
original  impersonations  of  character,  put  yourself  in 
direct  verbal  communication  with  such  characters  as 
you  wish  to  sketch,  confide  to  your  memory  or  your 
memorandum  their  strange  expressions,  peculiar 
English — all  their  idiosyncrasies.  When  separated 
from  them,  commit  to  paper  their  sayings  verbatim, 
and  your  own  impressions  ;  compare  the  impressions  ; 
and  these  conclusions  which'  you  have  gained  by 
deduction  as  your  study  advances,  and  modify  your 
opinion  as  the  character  becomes  more  and  more  re- 
vealed, or  approve  them,  as  the  case  may  be.  You 
will  soon  be  en  rapport  with  these  children  of  your 
brain,  paper-heroes  ;  and  so  when  you  introduce  them 
into  your  story,  if  necessary,  write  your  thought  first 
clothed  in  your  own  language,  and  then  translate  it 


EXAMINATION.  335 

by  means  of  your  newly  made  vocabulary — winch  is 
your  stock  in  trade — into  the  language  of  k  Tom, 
Dick  or  Harry ' — samples  of  which  you  procured  at 
first  hand  by  word  of  mouth,  and  lodged  securely  in 
your  brain  or  memorandum.  By  comparison  and  in- 
genuity of  adaptation,  miles  of  this  parlance  can  be 
construed  from  simple  data.  With  a  little  practice, 
you  can  thus  roughen  style. 

"  The  elevation  of  a  .simple  style  into  a  learned  and 
pompous  one,  the  reduction  of  a  smooth  and  diffuse 
style  into  a  naive  and  abrupt  one,  can  be  acquired  in 
the  same  way ;  if  original  characters  are  not  at  your 
command,  there  are  always  books  which  contain  all 
these  varieties  and  more,  and  if  you  have  any  im- 
pressibility and  will  read  a  typical  one  of  the  kind 
you  wish  to  draw,  your  thoughts  will  involuntarily 
take  a  similar  mode  of  expression. 

"But  a  colloquial  style  is  your  standard;  if  you 
have  acquired  any  of  the  rhetorical  styles,  by  previous 
writing — for  instance,  a  verbose,  pompous,  diffuse, 
labored,  antithetical — or  even  if  your  own  style  has 
become  stilted  or  affected  with  mannerism  from  run- 
ning too  long  in  a  groove,  you  must  correct  this,  as  a 
simple  style  is  best  for  conversion  into  all  the  other 
styles  needed  in  the  dialogue. 

"  Strike  out  superfluous  words  and  everything  that 
savors  of  pedantry  (unless  you  are  portraying,  a 
character  to  whom  it  is  natural),  and,  in  general,  high- 
sounding  words  and  phrases.  Occasionally  in  life  we 
meet  with  some  one  who  *  talks  like  a  book,'  but  he 
earns  the  unenviable  distinction  of  a  'bore  ' — possibly 
agreeable  to  a  few — but  to  the  many  a  '  bore,'  who 
is  listened  to  with  different  degrees  of  impatience, 
and  mentally  relegated  to  a  hall  of  suitable  dimen- 
sions for  public  speaking!  For  we  want  neither  an 
encyclopedia,  nor  a  long-winded  philosopher,  nor  an 
enthusiastic  reformer,  in  the  hours  of  social  recrea- 
tion, but  a  man  untrammeled  with  isms  and  bookish 
lore,  living  in  the  world  around  him,  with  eyes  to  pick 
up  a  pin  or  a  lady's  veil,  and  ears  to  hear  the  softest 
prattle  of  childhood. 


336  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  If  you  lack  practice  in  writing  stories,  you  may 
find  it  difficult,  ut  first,  to  make  correct  personations 
of  character.  To  think  now  like  a  lady  of  fashion  and 
anon  like  a  Highland  drover — -now  like  a  'sharper' 
and  now  like  a  saint — now  like  a  veteran  and  now 
like  an  unsophisticated  youth — now  to  put  the  words 
of  villainy  into  the  ruffian's  month  and  anon  to  expose 
him  and  drag  his  secrets  to  light, — now  to  harrow  up 
the  feelings  of  the  unsuspecting  by  the  cool  intrigue 
of  the  schemer,  and  now  to  unmask  his  treachery — 
to  be  now  the  man  of  the  world  and  now  to  preach 
against  the  '  pomps  and  vanities  '  of  life — will  be  only 
measurably  possible,  at  first;  but  in  this,  as  in  all 
things,  '  practice  makes  perfect.'  The  'genius 'can 
compass  it  sooner,  no  doubt,  than  the  plodder,  but 
plod  on,  Slow-Foot,  there  is  a  crown  for  thee,  too,  at 
the  end  of  the  race. 

"  We  are  many-sided  men  and  women,  touching 
by  our  sympathies  a  wide  circle  of  conscious  intelli- 
gences. We  ha-ve  in  the  outset  formulated  each 
character  according  to  a  living  or  an  ideal  model. 
We  know  precisely  how  Mary  looks  and  what  she 
will  say  under  given  circumstances,  because  we  have 
studied  her,  analyzed  her,  known  her  through  and 
through.  Then  we  lay  her  away  in  a  brain-corner  as 
we  would  a  doll  in  a  cradle ;  when  she  is  called  in 
the  play,  we  have  only  to  turn  the  side  labelled  '  Mary ' 
in  full  view  of  our  consciousness  to  see  it  reflected 
as  in  a  mirror.  Now  we  give  a  pronounced  effect 
to  one  side  and  again  to  another,  and  so  keep  the 
thread  of  the  plot  spinning — this  many-colored  thread 
that  forms  the  woof  of  the  drapery;  the  warp  is  all 
laid  out  and  planned  beforehand,  or,  mysterious  as  it 
may  seem,  the  fairy-like  wearer  does  often  so  ply  the 
shuttle  that  simultaneously  she  weaves  both  warp  and 
woof — the  whole  web;  and  sometimes  bits  of  web- 
bing spun  in  other  hours  may  be  inserted  here  and 
there,  and  so  nicely  fitted  as  to  give  the  appearance 
of  a  true  grow.th — you  see  not  the  patches  and  call 
it  all  '  very  good.' ' 


*  LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  i)OANti.  33? 


CHAPTER  IX.* 

LETTER    TO   ARTHUR    DOANE. 

DEAR  ART  : 

You  remind  me  of  my  delinquencies  in  not  relating 
to  you  the  minutia3  of  our  system  of  development 
under  Monboddo,  and  I  will  therefore  begin  my  letter 
with  the  desired  information. 

There  are  no  fees  of  any  description  in  our  school 
or  band.  The  Professor  rejects  the  first  name  be- 
cause it  smacks  of  a  money  bargain  between  master 
and  pupil,  and  there  is  a  hidden  suggestion  of  the 
birch,  a  graded  marking  system,  or  some  equivalent 
ad  terrorem  motive  as  the  incentive  to  endeavor  and 
the  inspiration  of  progress.  The  Professor  is  a  man 
of  inherited  wealth  sufficient  for  the  enterprise,  and 
prefers  investing  all  his  capital  both  of  money  and 
brains  in  good,  paying  stock  to  be  drawn  on  the  hearts 
and  intellects  of  young  men  ;  the  dividends,  he  claims, 
are  laid  up  in  the  Bank  of  Heaven,  and  so  far  as 
payment  of  the  original  deposit  is  concerned  he  is 
willing  to  wait  until  the  vaults  of  eternity  are  opened. 

When  you  think  of  it,  Art,  the  only  noble  employ- 
ment in  life  is  the  contribution  to  human  needs  di- 
rectly, and  what  can  be  more  benevolent  or  more 
wise  than  the  effort  to  furnish  the  proper  equipment 
for  young  men  just  entering  the  arena  for  a  fight 
with  "  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  "?  It  is  a 
noble  work,  and  when  undertaken  in  the  loving  spirit 
of  the  Professor  may  be  said  to  be  remarkable — in 
the  sense  that  it  is  out  of  the  general  order  of  things, 
now  running  in  the  groove  of  selfishness  for  thou- 
sands of  years,  to  do  honest  work  for  God,  looking  to 
Heaven  only  for  reward. 


338  tnti  OPAL  QUEEtf. 

The  Professor  says  that,  true  to  the  instinct  of  their 
nature,  all  men  are  in  pursuit  of  happiness,  and  that 
they  miss  it  either  through  ignorance  or  misunder- 
standing of  the  true  way  of  obtaining  it.  The  rem- 
edy lies  in  a  broadened  education — which  means  with 
him  especially  a  literary  emancipation  from  prevail- 
ing ruts  and  an  advanced  standard  of  general  in- 
struction through  an  enlarged  and  illuminated  teach- 
ing. 

The  schools  of  the  period  fall  under  the  ban,  be- 
cause of  stereotyped  methods  which  crush  the  power 
of  observation  in  the  formative  period  of  life,  and 
weaken  the  memory  by  inordinate  demands  upon 
it,  unaccompanied  by  the  natural  stimulus  which 
would  refresh  and  invigorate  it.  In  his  view,  the 
teacher  should  be  so  thorough  a  master  of  his  sub- 
jects, that  no  text-books  are  required;  and  though 
leaving  the  student  to  observe,  question,  explore,  and 
investigate  much  for  himself,  he  should  be  encouraged 
and  led  on  in  that  pursuit  by  one  able  and  ever  ready 
to  solve  his  doubts  and  direct  his  energies. 

I  told  you  about  our  amusing  experiences  with  our 
jottings  "  in  season  and  out  of  season."  This  prac- 
tice was  only  allowed  us  for  six  weeks — we  were 
then  requested  to  dispense  with  our  memoranda. 
(The  Professor  has  no  more  peremptory  form  than 
advice  ;  for  he  holds  that  if  the  true  spirit  subsists  be- 
tween us,  his  suggestions  will  have  the  effect  of  au- 
thority, without  its  weight.)  We  were  to  be  even 
more  diligent  than  formerly;  but  whereas  before  \ve 
looked  at  objects  subjectively,  we  must  now  go  out- 
side of  ourselves  and  collect  our  impressions  from  the 
.  world  around  us,  and  store  them  up  in  the  memory 
until  such  time  as  it  became  convenient  to  transfer 
them  to  paper,  with  a  ready  trust  that  they  would 
not  vanish,  collapse,  or  change  bulk  or  proportions,  to 
mock  us  with  shadows  and  deformities  of  the  truth. 

The  practice  required  some  system  to  manage  it 
successfully  ;  but  we  soon  learned  that  if  the  prelimi- 
nary steps  of  close  attention  and  accurate  observation 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  HOANE.  330 

were  faithfully  carried  out,  there  was  no  trouble  in 
remembering.  The  grip  of  the  mind  became  inten- 
sified— quicker  to  seize  and  more  tenacious  in  hold- 
ing a  thing  once  fastened  in  its  talons. 

The  qualifications  for  admission  into  this  "band" 
are  a  sound  and  vigorous  constitution,  with  no  defects 
of  any  kind  either  of  sight  or  hearing,  a  good  edu- 
cation in  the  elementary  branches  (advanced  learning 
does  not  disqualify),  a  knowledge  of  hygiene  and 
chemistry  and  the  elements  of  medical  practice. 

The  Professor  claims  that  intellectual  proficiency 
will  be  in  direct  proportion  to  physical  soundness  ; 
and  that  there  may  be  no  shortcomings  under  his 
management,  he  puts  us  under  the  oversight  of  a 
physician  during  the  entire  period.  The  object  is  to 
advance  the  cause  of  physical  education,  and  in  the 
gymnasium  we  are  under  the  supervision  of  a  medi- 
cal a'dviser  who  moderates  or  proportions  the  exer- 
cise to  the  strength  of  the  gymnast,  and  at  the  same 
time  gives  practical  lessons  in  anatomy  and  talks  on 
hygiene  and  medicine.  One  of  our  studies,  or  per- 
haps I  should  say  avenues  of  investigation,  that  I 
have  not  mentioned,  is  the  practice  of  medicine.  This 
we  pursue  in  quite  an  original  way  through  the 
medium  of  analytical  chemistry. 

The  theory  is  that  if  we  are  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  elements  in  our  own  body,  and  the  action, 
free  and  in  combination,  of  the  sixty-four  chemical 
elements,  we  can,  by  the  help  of  instruction  in  the 
principles  of  the  healing  art,  be  competent  to  keep 
the  balance  properly  adjusted  in  the  human  system 
and  preserve  it  in  working  order  through  our  diet. 
Of  course,  it  is  presumed  that  the  proper  amount  of 
air  and  exercise  will  preserve  for  us  what  we  are  pro- 
nounced to  have  upon  entering — viz.,  a  sound  mind  in 
a  sound  body;  but  as  disease  is  insidious,  and  some- 
times gets  a  foothold  before  its  victim  suspects  its 
proximity,  we  are  so  thoroughly  to  understand  our- 
selves as  to  guard  against  its  first  approach  and  to 
rout  it  by  a  telling  home-thrust  upon  the  appearance 


540  TBE  OP  A  L  Q  UKEN. 

of  the  first  symptoms.     The  Professor  says  we  ought 
to  live  our  seventy  years  in  the  full  bloom  of  health 
ful  activity,  and  thirty  years  more  with  the  tolerable 
comfort  that  now  appertains  to  average  middle  age. 

The  associate  professors  share  their  chief's  enthu- 
siasm, and  are  as  vast  repositories  of  knowledge  in 
their  special  spheres  as  he  is  a  treasury  of  gnomic 
wisdom  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  human  interests. 
Drudgery  is  an  unknown  .quantity,  and  study  is  a 
beatitude.  Even  into  so  dry  an  investigation  as 
bones  they  contrive  to  put  so  much  vitality  in  their 
practical  illustrations  upon  your  own  bod}-  or  a  fel- 
low-student's (the  skeleton  pro  tern.')  that  you  have 
the  names  and  action  before  you  know  it,  and  have 
been  so  keenly  interested  as  not  to  be  conscious  of 
putting  forth  a  single  effort  to  remember. 

The  Professor  believes  in  the  sciences  so  far  as  they 
can  foe  made  practical,  but  when  they  reach  out  into 
vague  speculations  and  dreamy  transcendentalism  he 
affirms  that  they  empty  the  mind  of  the  energy  re- 
quired for  grappling  with  questions  relating  to  human 
duty  and  human  happiness  and  human  needs — that 
any  stud}*"  and  examination  of  the  elements  that  con- 
verts them  into  agencies  to  bless  mankind  is  useful 
and  praiseworthy,  but  that  "  the  proper  study  of 
mankind  is  man."  He  claims  that  a  high  and  aes- 
thetic civilization  has  multiplied  our  wants  and  cum- 
bered our  minds  with  the  effort  to  satisfy  them — that 
with  reduced  indulgences,  and  a  limitation  put  upon 
our  external  wants,  we  would  be  more  apt  to  turn 
our  attention  to  the  pleasures  arising  from  duty  in- 
stead of  self-gratification,  and  would  have  time  for 
reflection  and  self-examination,  and  thus  be  put  in 
the  way  of  inquiring  if  the  true  happiness  did  not 
consist  in  extending  to  others  benefits  similar  to  our 
own  and  being  instrumental  in  that  universal  millen- 
nium which  is  the  hope  of  the  race. 

The  names  by  which  we  are  designated  have  sprung 
out  of  that  seething  caldron  of  wit  and  ridicule  which 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  341 

assails  any  enterprise  inaugurating  a  new  departure 
from  the  ruts  of  conservatism. 

At  first  they  called  the  twenty  who  joined  them- 
selves to  the  Professor  "  Monboddoes  " — a  very  good 
name  ;  but  when  the  new  class  of  twenty  came  to  the 
field,  the  first-term  men  were  called  "Lemons,"  the 
second-term  men  "  Boddoes,"  and  only  the  third-term 
men  arrive  at  the  distinction  of  the  full  cognomen 
"  Monboddoes."  The  whole  band  they  call  the  "  Im- 
mortal Sixty,"  and  the  school  "  Academia  della 
Crusca" 

The  Professor's  lectures — he  calls  them  "examina 
tions,"  and  uses  the  Socratic  method  (this  you  have 
observed  in  the  verbatim  reports  I  have  sent  you,  if 
you  have  had  time  to  read  them) — are  so  clear  and  full 
that  "just  to  hear  them,"  as  the  ancient  Prodicus  said 
about  his  own  lectures,  "is  to  be  thoroughly  educated 
in  the  subject-matter." 

I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  in  the  fullest  sym- 
pathy with  ther  design  and  aims  of  the  Professor — that 
goes  without  saying,  for  it  would  be  arch  hypocrisy 
to  secure  the  advantages  of  a  system  '•  without  money 
and  without  price  "  that  my  judgment  did  not  approve 
and  I  could  not  most  cordially  support.  But  this,  to 
my  mind,  is  the  res  vexata  : 

Suppose,  after  all,  when  the  prescribed  number  of 
revolutions  of  the  examining  wheel  have  been  made, 
we  do  not  come  out  the  genuine  article  !  We 
shall  no  doubt  be  done  up  in  neat  packages  and  duly 
labelled  "  Masters  of  the  Art  of  Literature,"  but  must 
there  not  inevitably  be  some  blanks  in  the  distribu- 
tion ?  Is  Nature  so  prodigal  of  her  favors  as  to  furnish 
every  one  of  the  sixty  young  men,  thrown  together 
promiscuously,  with  the  shining  passport  to  distinc- 
tion ?  And  here  I  know  I  am  a  trifle  disloyal  to  the 
master,  who  teaches  that  the  consciousness  of  inter- 
nal improvement  and  the  faithful  discharge  of  duty 
•is  a  sufficient  reward — who  disclaims  the  bauble  of 
distinction,  is  blind  to  the  praise  or  blame  of  the 


342  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

world,  and  emphasizes  in  his  own  conduct  the  truth 
of  those  old  lines — 

"  Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise; 
Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honor  lies." 

And  this,  I  believe,  too,  accords  with  Scripture, 
which  enjoins  upon  us  the  love  of  neighbor  equal  to 
self,  bids  us  "  take  no  anxious  thought  for  the  mor- 
row," and  declares  that "  the  fear  of  man  is  a  snare," 
and  the  honor  which  cometh  from  man. 

And  yet  in  the  period  of  aggressive  youth,  unless 
one  deliberately  chooses  the  role  of  reformer  or 
martyr,  I  know  not  how  it  is  possible  to  keep  from 
prospecting  a  little  into  the  near  future,  to  try  and 
catch  the  probable  outcome  of  our  somersault  (I  hope 
it  will  be  with  becoming  dignity)  into  the  teeming 
whirl  we  call  life.  With  maturity  of  years  comes  a 
decline  of  ambition  and  an  easier  settling  into  well- 
defined  paths  of  action. 

And  so  you  will  not  blame  me  for  occasional  mis- 
givings which  shoot  like  spent  rockets  across  my  sky. 
But  after  all,  what  are  a  few  fugitive  streaks  of  dark 
in  my  great  heaven  of  blue  ? 

Faithfully  yours, 

CHANNING. 


FIFTH  EXAMINATION.  343 


CHAPTER  X. 

FIFTH  "EXAMINATION" — NOVELS — THE  HERO  AND 
THE  HEROINE. 

"  TELL  me,  Xenophon,  if  you  perceive  a  tendency 
in  mankind  to  be  exclusively  dominated  by  sensual 
and  selfish  enjoyments  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  this  is  so,  Ulysses." 

"  Would  you  then  consider  any  entertainment 
that  furnishes  pure  and  refined  pleasure  an  import- 
ant agent  in  winning  men  from  these  forms  of  self- 
ishness ?  " 

"•  Unquestionably,  Ulysses." 

u  And  if  the  entertainment  thoroughly  diverts  the 
mind,  takes  it  into  new  channels  of  thought,  and 
thus  relieves  the  strain  upon  nerves  pressed  sorely 
in  the  old  ruts,  would  it  be  still  more  beneficial?" 

"  We  ought  to  be  inexpressibly  thankful  for  such 
an  entertainment,  Ulysses.  If  Carlyle  had  better 
understood  the  true  theory  of  the  nerves,  he  would 
have  been  a  happier  if  not  as  wise  a  man." 

u  Do  you  not  think  the  modern  novel  of  highest 
type  able  to  furnish  such  entertainment,  Xeno- 
phon ?  " 

"  It  had  indeed  never  occurred  to  me,  Ulysses, 
but  I  am  quite  inclined  to  agree  with  you,  when  I 
remember  how  much  pure  pleasure  I  have  had  while 
reading  them." 

"  Will  you  allow  us  to  consider  the  matter,  Xen- 
ophon, by  commencing  with  the  hero,  since  his  char- 
acter decides  in  great  measure  the  quality  of  the 
novel?" 


344  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  By  all  means,  Ulysses." 

"  Having  fixed  upon  your  hero,  would  it  not  be 
wise  to  elevate  him  mentally  midway  between  heaven 
and  earth,  as  it  were,  at  a  convenient  seeing  distance, 
and  in  that  invisible  sphere  have  him  ubiquitous  to 
you? — then  to  centralize  in  him,  so  as  to  preserve  an 
essential  element  of  success,  that  is,  unity  in  the 
theme  ?  " 

"It  would  be  wise,  Ulysses,  for  the  introduction  of 
too  many  characters  or  too  complex  a  network  of  in- 
cidents distracts  and  wearies  the  reader." 

"  No  matter  how  varied  and  interesting  the  acces- 
sories of  the  stor}r,  or  how  full  of  choice  bits  of  knowl- 
edge and  collateral,  sketches  it  is,  they  may  be  over- 
looked or  forgotten  ;  but  the  personality  and  fortunes 
of  your  hero  must  stand  out  in  such  vigor  of  life  that 
he  cannot  be  ignored  and  will  stick  fast  in  the  reader's 
mind  as  an  acquaintance  or  a  friend — a  friend  that 
goes  with  him,  be  it  remembered,  for  good  or  ill. 
Few  realize  the  potential  power  of  the  hero  or  heroine 
of  a  novel,  particularly  during  the  formative  period 
of  the  mind.  Many  a  youth  is  unconsciously 
stamped  by  some  hero  that  strikes  his  fancy  who 
sinks  like  a  die  into  the  plastic  wax  of  his  nature  and 
hardens  there — is,  in  fact,  never  quite  obliterated." 

"  I  remember,  Ulysses,  that  Jane  Welsh  Carlyle, 
when  a  child,  became  so  enthused  with  the  character 
of  Queen  Dido  and  the  heathenish  ceremonials  of 
her  times,  that  she  burned  her  doll  on  a  funeral 
pyre  of  cedar  allumettes  with  an  accompaniment 
of  spices,  a  few  sticks  of  cinnamon,  a  few  cloves, 
and  a  nutmeg,  and  then  lo  carry  out  the  ritual  she 
recited  the  speech  of  Dido  and  stabbed  her  doll. 
She  tells  us  that  when  considering  the  pros  and  cons 
of  any  action,  her  inquiry  was,  not. .  '  What  is  right  ? ' 
but,  '  How  would  a  Greek  or  a  Roman  do  under  like 
circumstances? '  and  commended  herself  in  proportion 
to  her  degree  of  approach  to  her  chosen  models. 
She  says  that  her  '  inner  world  was  three-fourths  Ro- 
man and  one-fourth  Fairy.' " 


FIFTH  EXAMINATION.  345 

"  Many  a  little  innocent,  Xenophon,and  even  adults 
have  clone  the  same  insensibly.  Not  having  Jeanie's 
full-thoughted  brain,  but  only  sensations  which 
served  as  impulses  to  action,  they  have  not  formu- 
lated those  sensations,  and  have  been  unconscious 
devotees.  Could  we  but  look  into  the  youthful 
minds  of  the  centuries  since  Shakespeare's  time,  we 
should  doubtless  find  many  ardent  aspirants  for  the 
characters  of  Hamlet,  Julius  Caesar,  or  Macbeth." 

"Is  it  not  clear,  Xenophon,  that  the  central  figure 
should  be  worthy  of  emulation?  Make  him  noble, 
heroic,  the  world  needs  continual  reminders  of  the 
glorious  possibilities  of  character  ;  heart-weighted 
with  sin  and  folly,  the  tendencies  of  life  are  down- 
ward, and  can  only  by  strong  means  be  turned  out 
of  that  course  or  prevented  from  entering  it.  Be 
more  afraid  of  corrupting  or  misleading  one  soul, 
Xenophon,  than  of  receiving  a  rejected  manuscript 
('  declined  with  thanks  ')  from  the  editorial  auto- 
crat, or  of  embarrassing  your  publisher  and  per- 
manently encumbering  his  shelves.  Be  more  zeal- 
ous to  exalt  humanity  than  your  name,  and  to  fill 
hearts  with  goodness  than  your  pockets  with  gold. 
It  is  a  noble  utterance  for  a  dying  man  that  he  has 
not  written  one  word  that  he  would  wish  unsaid — 
but  what  has  been  the  dying  man's  standard  of 
uprightness?  Upon  that  depends  the  value  of  the 
testimony. 

"Do  not  infer  from  this  that  there  is  to  be  no  vil- 
lainy in  the  plot — virtue  and  vice  thrive  side  by  side 
in  life,  and  as  such  may  be  transferred  to  your  page. 
But  be  sure  that  you  make  vice  hideous.  Condone 
it  not,  palliate  it  not,  throw  over  it  not  one  rag  of 
charity — paint  it  as  a  thing  to  be  detested  !  extenuate 
not  petty  faults,  gild  not  sly,  seductive  influences — 
oh,  my  soul !  the  foul  bed  of  iniquity  that  modern 
authors  are  making  and  shamelessly  portraying  in 
all  its  frightful  loathsomeness,  its  pestilence-breed- 
ing vapors  uncovered  for  the  world's  gaze  ! — and  oh, 
my  soul !  the  eager,  breathless  curiosity  of  the  pant- 


346  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

ing  world  to  have  the  false  though*  pampered  heroes 
of  lascivious  deeds  exposed  to  their  gloating  vision. 

"The  modern  novel  is  tainted  through  and  through 
with  the  rotten  kernel  of  seduction  that  lies  in  the 
heart  of  it;  secret  amours,  intrigues  of  vice  and 
passion  are  like  the  worm  coiled  in  the  heart  of 
the  rose,  snugly'  covered  by  its  crimson  peial — or 
the  unsightly  one  laid  bare  in  its  hideous  nearness  as 
we  dissect  the  luseiou.i  fruit,  having  stealthily  gnawed 
its  way  in  shining  but  defiled  tracks  from  centre  to 
circumference  !  Ostracize  such  books — try  to  revive 
or  create  a  purer  taste  that  shall  not  enjoy  this  meal 
of  worms,  be  they  never  so  '  savory — tales  of  illicit 
love  and  illegitimate  children  ! 

"  This  is  a  high  mark,  but  God  helping,  you  can 
attain  to  it.  'Tis  the  glory  of  Sir  Walter  Scott — • 
whose  one  tale  of  that  genus  is  all  that  the  world 
needs  until  doomsday — that  with  this  one  exception 
he  steered  clear  of  that  'rock  of  offence.'  'Tis  the- 
shame  of  George  Eliot,  who  prostituted  her  noble 
talents  to  such  ignoble  ends !  'Tis  the  glory  of 
Dickens,  who  could  interest,  amuse,  reform,  teach, 
without  this  all-seductive  element  of  an  author's 
power — say  rather  of  an  author's  weakness.  Power 
to  excite  wrong  feelings,  stimulate  bad  passions,  and 
secure  more  readers,—  yes  ;  but  weakness  to  resist  the 
temptation  to  wrong  his  own  soul  by  presenting  at- 
tractive pictures  that  help  the  world  on  in  vice;  he 
is  the  powerful  soul  who  conquers  himself." 

"Without  doubt,  Ulysses,  the  influence  of  wicked- 
nesses a  factor  in  literature,  is  very  much  overrated, 
but  here  is  a  contradiction :  if  we  are  to  depict  vice, 
why  must  this,  more  than  any  other,  be  ignored  by  the 
author?" 

"Because,  Xenophon,  this,  more  than  any  other,  is 
specious,  therefore  more  dangerous  to  social  life 
and  purity ;  because  this,  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  can  never  be  set  forth  in  its  true  colors. 
Society  would  shrink  from  the  spectacle  of  sensualism 
in  its  emblazoned  characters — it  must  be  touched 


FIFTH  EXAMINATION.  347 

lightly,  sketched  artistically,  a  charm  of  mystery 
woven  around  it — a  veil  that  hides  the  horror  and 
beguiles  the  senses  into  a  dreamy  sensation  that  it  is 
not  half  so  bad  as  the  moralists  would  have  us 
believe  !  This  secrecy  furnishes  the  element  of  mys- 
tery which  can  be  made  highly  artistic,  that  is  true  ; 
but  forget  not  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  corrupt 
art.  Thank  God !  we  are  not  yet  brought  to  the 
Pompeian  era!  Any  vice  that  must  be  skimmed  over, 
gracefully  handled,  delicately  touched,  becomes  not 
a  deformity  and  a  hideous  running  ulcer  to  the  sight, 
but  a  petted  dandled  foible — peccadillo  !  Bah  !  The 
Brazen  Artiste  who  talks  of  '  mon  petit  accident ' 
with  all  the  nonchalance  of  a  common  prostitute,  and 
the  easy-minded  public,  so  willing  to  overlook  dis- 
grace and  dishonor  in  its  favorite  actress,  because  of 
her  colossal  impudence  in  ignoring  it  herself  and 
sublime  indifference  to  all  moral  lines  of  conduct! 
These  are  tide-marks  to  show  what  this  false  taste 
creates  and  how  it  works,  and  what  we  have  come  to, 
now  in  this  enlightened  Christian  nineteenth  century  ! 
—Fighting  Mormonism,  indeed,  with  all  the  force  of 
law,  and  coddling  or  countenancing  bold,  shameless 
vice,  because,  forsooth,  it  is  so  enveloped  with  aesthetic 
charms  !  Men  and  women — grief  to  tell ! — look  on 
admiringly  while  the  writer  or  the  actor  plays  his 
little  part  in  tliis  hideous  drama  of  moral  debauchery 
and  vicious  reality  ! — shut  their  eyes  and  secretly 
smile  on  the  one  hand,  and  openly  applaud  or  mildly 
condemn  on  the  other.  These  are  plain  words  ;  but 
the  lack  of  just  such  plainness  has  caused  this  moral 
cesspool  to  percolate  society  to  its  core  ! " 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Ulysses,  and  yet  answer 
me  this  question — Is  it  not  the  business  of  the  author 
to  portray  life  as  he  finds  it?" 

"  Tell  me,  Xenophon,  you  are  surely  not  one  of 
those  men,  are  you,  who  deny  that  novel-writing  is 
an  art?" 

"  Doubtless  you  are  right,  Ulysses,  for  I  surely 
know  that  it  is  the  business  of  the  historian,  the 


348  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

biographer,  and  the  annalist  to  portray  life  as  he  finds 
it." 

"  Then  if  it  be  an  art,  Xenophon,  should  not  the 
novelist  be  an  artist  and  treat  his  subject  artis- 
tically?" 

"  Undoubtedly  he  would  be  under  such  obligations, 
Ulysses." 

"  With  a  foundation  of  truth  (for  even  if  the  basis 
be  imaginary,  it  must  have  in  it  natural  ingredients, 
as  the  landscape  has  no  permission  to  be  without  sky, 
earth,  rock  and  field),  his  talent  occupies  itself  in 
combining  out"  of  his  imagination  attractive  forms 
and  groupings,  with  a  view  to  artistic  effects;  this 
is  his  privilege,  his  art.  He  is  not  bound  to  '  subject 
the  imagination  strictly  tq  the  conditions  of  truth 
and  reality  ' — the  artist's  standard  \&  feeling,  the  end, 
refined  pleasure.  It  goes  without  saying  that  in 
depicting  men  and  manners,  he  cannot  ignore  nature 
or- truth.  The  law  of  fidelity  to  both  is,  in  a  certain 
sense, prescribed  by  his  art;  for,  as  the  object  of  the 
novel-writer  is  to  give  refined  pleasure,  whatever 
nullifies  this  object  is  inartistic  by  so  much.  If  he 
create  monstrosities  and  perversities  to  shock  his 
reader,  and  disorders  in  the  social  code  of  manners  or 
the  religious  code  of  morals  to  arouse  indignation  and 
disgust,  he  fails  in  his  primary  object — therefore  fails 
as  an  artist  and  as  a  novel-writer.  So  that,  while  not 
tied  down  by  this  condition  of  absolute  fidelity  to 
nature,  he  must  keep  in  the  groove  of  truth  by  fitness 
and  consistency  ;  first,  because  nothing  less  will  pro- 
duce pleasing  impressions;  and,  second,  because  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  the  ethics  of  art,  founded  on  the 
inseparable  connection  between  the  Good  and  the 
Beautiful.  To  put  it  more  distinctly,  he  will  at  all 
times  and  in  every  case  present  subjective  truth 
absolutely,  and  objective  truth  relatively  to  the  occa- 
sion and  the  speaker.  He  is  at  liberty  to  select  from 
or  add  to  nature  whatever  pleases  his  artistic  fancy, 
but  never  -at  liberty  to  falsify  her  or  glorify  vice, 
which  is  untruth.  With  the  growing  tendency  of 


FIFTH  EXAMINATION.  349 

tliis  age  to  disassociate  morals  from  art,  I  have  no 
sympathy— nay,  more,  my  whole  being  rises  up  in 
indignant  protest  against  the  pernicious,  though 
specious  doctrine,  and  thunders  anathemas  against 
the  promulgators  of  it !  Cannot  the  zealots,  blind  in 
their  enthusiasm  for  making  art  their  religion  and 
introducing  into  this  era  the  vain,  altogether  profitless 
and  abject  worship  of  a  forgotten  age — can  they  not 
see  that  just  as  soon  as  the  morals  of  aesthetics  is  lost 
sight  of,  there  will  be  corruption  in  art? — that. purity 
and  strength  of  artistic  forms  will  be  sunk  in  vice 
and  puerility  ?  Yes,  Xenophon,  the  combination  of 
the  good,  the  true,  and  the  beautiful  is  the  trinity  of 
strength  and  purity  in  art.  Would  you  consider  it, 
therefore,  essential  that  the  novelist  be  himself  pure, 
and  searching  after  the  true,  the  good,  and  the 
beautiful  in  all  his  artistic  spirit  reaches  unto?" 

"  Undoubtedly,  Ulysses." 

"  No  blushes  will  then  tinge  the  sensitive  cheek  of 
Modesty  as  she  reads  the  printed  page — no  sensuous 
breathings  of  a  Swinburne  or  a  Wilde  will  clog  our 
literature,  no  vulgarism  of  a  Byron  or  a  Sterne  or  a 
Moliere  will  then  poison  the  channels  of  thought  and 
arouse  the  contempt  and  righteous  protests  of  the 
morally  healthy  world  !  Our  highest  models  of  litera- 
ture are  based  upon  the  true  union  of  goodness  with 
art. 

"  As  for  the  hero,  always  make  him  a  man  of  high 
purpose  and  moral  endeavor  ;  not  by  necessity  a  Cal- 
vinist — without  any  religious  cant,  he  may  inculcate 
religious  principles ;  and  when  we  remember  that 
novels  are  read  chiefly  by  the  young,  we  need  not 
hesitate  to  set  up  continually  an  exalted  standard  of 
manhood.  I  know  there  is  a  temptation  to  be  daring, 
to  depart  from  the  beaten  track,  to  hew  out  a  new 
one  in  which  to  give  a  license  to  humor  and  freaks 
and  passions — new,  striking,  and  original  combinations 
of  sin  ! — sin  itself,  alas  !  being  as  old  as  Adam — some- 
thing less  commonplace  and  stereotyped,  something 
saucy,  wild,  devilish,  original  /.they  will  term  it.  But 


350  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

there  are  established  canons  of  taste  in  this,  as  in  all 
other  arts,  and  he  who  deviates  widely  may  be  toler- 
ated as  an  eccentric,  but  he  who  ignores  or  defies 
them  will  be  dropped  from  the  catalogue  of  the  im- 
mortal writers. 

"  Let  us  never  lower  the  standard  of  high,  unim- 
peached  integrity  in  manhood,  for  our  hero  ! — we  can 
contemplate  at  our  leisure  the  reverse  species  lying 
in  plain  unvarnished  facts  and  histories  all  around  us  ! 

"  For  your  accompanying  figures  there  is  more 
license — and  usually  one  marked  trait  will  sufficiently 
identify  them,  if  drawn  with  distinct  strokes  ;  "whether 
it  be  the  obtuseness  of  a  good-natured  tutor,  like 
Dominie  Sampson  ;  or  the  fidelity  to  hereditary  great- 
ness as  in  Caleb— the  character  in  'The  Bride  of 
Lammermoor';  or  the  button-losing  Peggotty ;  the 
miserly  Grandfather  Smallweecl,  with  his  pillow 
gymnastics ;  or  the  faithful  Judy,  ever  shaking  up 
and  smoothing  out  the  Smallweed  pair. 

"  While  insisting  upon  the  truest  manhood  for  the 
hero,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  must  always  be  in  his 
right  mind.  If  you  are  fond  of  the  study  of  lunacy,* 
a  crazy  man — or  one  just  on  the  border-land  of  in- 
sanity that  you  may  take  advantage  of  the  element 
of  mysteiy — will  sometimes  make  an  effective  figure. 

"  What  has  been  said  applies  also  in  its  main  fea- 
tures to  the  heroine  of  the  story.  In  general  avoid 
weeping  women  and  puling  children — leave  them  to 
the  comforting  friends  that  God  has  given  them,  and 
draw  strong  heroines  having  no  tears  in  public  ;  sup- 
pressing the  outward  show  of  sorrow  and  mastering 
all  emotion  like  the  Rebecca  of '  Ivanhoe,'  or,  if  she  be 
a  sinner,  like  Becky  Sharp,  ignoring  them  all,  grief, 
sorrow,  and  remorse  ;  or  like  Pamela,  maintaining  a 
calm  exterior  over  a  bursting  heart.  The  world,  the 
female  world,  needs  heroic  models — there  is  a  languor 
and  inertia  about  the  nineteenth  century  fair  one,  that 
is  fruitful  of  tears,  and  that,  consuming  itself  on  the 
aesthetics  of  self,  resorts  to  this  petty  and  sometimes 
pretty  weakness  as  an  outlet  for  disordered  nerves. 


FIFTH  EXAMINATION.  351 

A  little  broader  outlook  into  the  real  distress  of  life, 
a  little  braver  courting  of  sunshine  and  air,  would 
gird  them  for  non-resistance  when  beset  by  the  river- 
god  lachrymose?  fosmince. 

"Withdrawn  from  the  practical  affairs  of  life  by 
the  more  pressing  and  absorbing  duties  of  decorative 
art,  they  find  crewels  and  the  palette  easy  and  elegant 
substitutes  for  a  more  fruitful  industry  and  a  better 
directed  energy,  and  point,  with  a  pride  that  never 
questions  their  devotion  to  right-living,  to  the  recherche 
compensatory  adornments  of  wall  and  furniture. 
It  is  doubtful  if  these  studies  which  erupt  into  manias 
do  not  greatly  generate  moral  indifference.  Art  is 
not  religion,  though  a  world  of  Goethes  and  Schillers, 
Hegels  and  Schellings,  should  so.  proclaim  it.  Ye 
cannot  serve  two  masters,  saith  the  Lord,  God  and 
Art! 

"  Patience,  modesty,  self-denial,  must  be  the  crown- 
ing virtues  of  your  model  heroine.  The  latter,  es- 
pecially, we  require  in  woman.  Unless  the  man  is  to 
be  a  martyr  of  reform,  we  do  not  so  much  look  for  it 
in  him — the  battle  with  life  will  develop  other  traits, 
and  compel  in  the  average  man  an  aggrandizement 
of  self — not  selfishness  be  it  noted,  but  self-reliance, 
self-development,  self-accumulation — but  not  self-for- 
getfulness  pre-eminently.  This  is  the  woman's  true 
atmosphere,  and  her  diadem  of  beauty  is  her  self-sur- 
render— for  does  it  not  show  a  nearer  kinship  to 
divinity? 

"  Beware  of  the  easy  and  cheap  way  of  making 
your  characters  by  descriptions  of  what  they  are  and 
can  do,  instead  of  permitting  them  to  act  out  their 
lives,  establishing  their  characters  by  inference.  I 
have  known  some  so-called  heroines  go  through  a 
whole  story  without  performing  one  single  creditable 
deed. 

"Pronounced  'pretty'  and  'sweet,' labelled  'an- 
gelic,' they  played  the  cherubic  role,  smiling  and 
looking  unutterable  things  ! — perhaps  heaving  a  sigh 
or  two  in  a  striking  tableau  and  dropping  a  tear  of 


352  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

wounded  sensibility  frequently,  but  never  once  rising 
above  the  level  of  a  figure-head  !  And  yet  the 
author  was  incessantly  calling  our  attention  to  her 
graces  and  nobility  of  spirit,  and  demanding  our 
worship  at  her  shrine.  Let  your  characters  act  and 
speak  for  themselves,  and  your  reader  decide  for  him- 
self as  to  the  degree  of  merit  they  possess.  A  deep 
craving  for  novelty  and  variety  is  a  strong  instinct 
of  our  nature,  but  do  not  let  it  lead  you  beyond  the 
bounds  of  taste  and  prudence. 

"  Put  what  you  can  of  originality  into  your  work 
without  straining  for  effect  or  marring  the  harmony. 
Be  original,  if  so  doing  you  are  yourself.  But  do  not 
strive  to  be  original;  that  'never  befell  any  one  by 
deliberate  resolve.'  You  will  find  it  hard  now  to 
strike  a  new  vein  in  the  well-worked  mine  of  story- 
telling, without  crossing  into  the  border-land  of 
romance,  where  superstition,  legendary  tales,  exag- 
gerated scenes,  incidents,  and  fancies  arouse  the 
curiosity  and  weaken  the  intellect  by  stimulating  a 
craving  for  the  unreal  and  the  unattainable.  By 
deadening  the  sensibilities  to  the  ordinary  dangers 
and  accidents  of  life,  and  creating  a  passion  for  the 
impossible,  they  introduce  mental  disorders,  unfitting 
the  judgment  to  draw  healthy  conclusions  or  make 
just  comparison  between  the  actual.and  the  ideal." 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  353 


CHAPTER  XI. 

LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE. 

DEAR  ARTHUR: 

I  feel  this  evening  like  half  a  pair  of  scissors  !  You 
know  just  how  that  is.  Partly  to  battle  it  off,  and 
partly  to  give  you  my  usual  bulletin  of  home  and 
school  transactions,  I  take  up  my  pen  for  a  scribble. 

Last  night  (or  rather  this  morning  at  3  :  30  o'clock), 
according  to  a  preconcerted  arrangement,  a  party  of 
"  Lemons  "  met  at  the  observatory,  to  take  observa- 
tions on  the  stranger  that  has  recently  appeared  in 
Heaven's  high  court.  Brilliant  in  appearance  and 
original  in  dress  and  carriage,  he  eclipsed  lesser 
luminaries  by  the  brightness  of  his  head-gear  and 
the  lengthened  splendor  of  his  train. 

You  recognize  without  further  preliminary  the 
comet  of  1832.  Having  passed  his  perihelion,  he  was 
only  feebly  beautiful  (with  spasmodic  flashes  of  past 
glory)  compared  with  what  he  has  been,  reminding 
one  of  a  faded  belle  whose  waning  charms  increase 
her  desire  to  keep  and  enhance  them.  He  has  been, 
so  far,  ahead  of  his  confreres  in  amiability,  having 
manifested  an  accommodating  spirit  superior  to  any 
comet  in  my  recollection — not  presuming,  like  the 
rest,  to  meddle  in  our  sublunary  affairs  by  getting 
the  elements  off  their  bases  ;  mixing  up  earth,  air,  fire, 
and  water,  in  such  uncanny,  unscientific,  and  dis- 
orderly proportions,  that  floods,  tornadoes,  conflagra- 
tions, earthquakes,  pestilence,  famine,  panics,  and 
the  thousand  "ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to,"  were  evolved 
and  let  loose  upon  this  poor,  afflicted  earth;  rollick- 
ing at  large  like  so  many  demoniacal  spirits,  without 


354  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

permission  or  restraint — but  quietly  and  cheerfully 
(as  far  as  we  can  discover)  minding  his  own  business, 
thus  granting  us  continued  "spells"  of  fair  weather. 
No  occasion  for  the  old  prayer  of  the  superstitious 
Catholic,  "  Lord,  save  us  from  the  devil,  the  Turk, 
and  the  comet." 

The  probable  cause  of  so  much  indulgence  is  the 
loss  of  half  of  his  head  ;  and  having  only  half  a  mind 
to  do  mischief,  you  know,  is  equivalent — according 
to  the  laws  of  popular  interpretation — to  not  doing 
it  at  all.  "  The  double-minded  man  is  unstable  in 
all  his  ways,"  the  single-minded  man  is  stable,  and 
the  half-minded  man  is — "  tabled,"  Q.E.D. 

But  comets  are  a  variable  quantity,  while  you,  my 
dear  chum,  are  a  fixed  quantity.  I  know  just  where 
to  find  you,  even  after  this  long  rodomontade.  By  the 
very  necessities  of  the  case,  you  are  calm  and  patient, 
waiting,  hoping,  for  another  invoice  on  the  next  sheet, 
labelled  sense.  Well,  there's  plenty  of  it,  real  hard 
sense,  too,  coming.  The  foregoing  is  like  old 
"Gran's"  knitting — not  difficult  enough  to  be 
called  work,  and  not  sufficiently  amusing  to  deserve 
the  name  of  play — what  then  will  you  call  it? 
"  Stuff,"  I  suppose.  That  would  answer,  for  stuff  is 
one  of  the  accompaniments  of  nonsense.  But  some- 
times, you  know,  one  has  the  sauce  without  the  pud- 
ding, the  mise  en  sc£ne  without  the  comedian  ! 

But  now  to  business — no  more  prating,  even  to  my 
"  t'other  half  of  the  scissors,"  for,  if  it  can't  cut,  I 
know  from  sharp  experience  that  it  can  thrust  and 
bore  ! 

The  Professor  desires  each  one  of  us  to  choose  a 
model — that  is,  to  decide  in  our  minds  what  literary 
character,  taking  all  things  into  account,  we  most, 
admire — and  study  him  from  center  to  circumfer- 
ence :  Analyze  him,  penetrate  him  through  and 
through,  read  every  printed  scrap  that  can  be  found 
relating  to  him,  talk  about  him,  discuss  him  (dream 
about  him,  I  suppose,  will  also  be  in  order,  and,  in  fact, 
necessarily  follow),  love  him,  reverence  him,  do  every- 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  355 

thing,  in  fact,  but  eat  him — figuratively,  we  shall  eat 
him,  too,  by  absorbing  the  vitality  of  his  spirit,  the 
marrow  and  fatness  of  his  views  and  principles, 
which,  assimilating  with  our  mental  tissue,  will  be- 
come incorporated  into  our  minds,  and  thus  nourish 
them,  as  truly  as  the  food  does  the  body.  The  deci- 
sion is  an  important  step,  and,  like  every  other  one 
that  concerns  me,  is  discussed  viva  voce  in  the  family 
circle. 

Upon  the  announcement  of  an  important  measure 
proposed  for  regulating  my  well-being  (in  the 
gross,  or  minutiae)  no  one  ventures  to  express  an 
opinion  until  Pater  has  delivered  his.  As  a  pre- 
liminary, we  usually  skirmish  to*  find  out  where  each 
one  stands,  and  look  the  field  over,  as  it  were,  while 
tossing  our  balls  of  wit  and  wisdom.  Thus  far,  it  is 
simply  an  exhilarating  exercise,  but  presently  some 
one  happily  is  hit,  by  accident,  and  then  we  set  to 
work  in  earnest,  to  see  which  side  will  win  the  score, 
for,  as  I  have  intimated,  there  are  usually  two  par- 
ties in  this  deliberative  family  game. 

Pater  repeated  some  well-worn  maxims,  by  way  of 
introduction,  as  "Good  in  all,  and  none  all  good." 
"  One  falls  to  the  side  towards  which  one  leans." 
"  Non  omnia  possumus  omnes"  and  the  like  ;  while 
Superba — her  round  eyes  fixed  on  Pater,  but  her 
mind  engaged  in  its  own  problems  of  family  com- 
fort, or,  like  Eve,  "  on  hospitable  thoughts  intent," 
I  well  knew,  for  absenteeism  was  visibly  written 
on  her  face — catching  the  word  Burns,  ejaculated, 
"  Yes,  it  was  burnt  yesterday,  and  I  must  reprimand 
Angeline  this  minute  ;  "  reminding  one  of  Mrs.  Scott's 
pleasantry  on  Lamb,  which  you  may  not  have  heard. 

When  Sir  Walter  finished  some  remark  on  Charles 
Lamb,  taking  the  cue  only,  she  said  :  "  Yes,  indeed, 
I  always  did  admire  lamb  very  much,  especially 
with  mint-sauce." 

Pater  looks  in  the  coals  until  Superba  returns, 
followed  by  "  Peter  the  Great  "  with  sherry.  Pater 
now  warming  up  to  the  subject,  gives  running  com- 


356  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

mentaries  upon  the  leading  stars  in  the  literary 
firmament,  and  I  find  my  mind  attracted,  distracted, 
now  here,  now  there,  and  altogether  very  much  un- 
made-up.  For  each  portraiture,  like  a  magnet,  drew 
and  repelled  according  to  the  pole  presented.  Car- 
lyle,  Goethe,  Hamilton,  Bacon,  Hawthorne,  Ruskin, 
Irving,  Addison,  Buhver,  Scott,  Dickens,  Thackeray, 
pass  in  review  before  us.  (The  poets,  all  but  Shake- 
speare, are  excluded  from  the  catalogue.  Shakespeare 
and  the  Bible  are  recommended  as  our  vade-mecum.) 

Pater  proceeds — inquires  if'it  is  to  be  a  study  of 
character  *per  se,  or  simply  in  its  literary  aspect  — 
the  man  or  the  writer.  For,  he  goes  on  to  say, 
"  You  get  from  a  book  many  things  if  you  read  in  a 
desultory,  aimless  way,  but  all  lying  in  penumbra, 
dim,  vague,  and  distant.  But  if  you  read  with 
sharpened  faculties  to  find  something,  to  get,  as  gold 
from  the  mine — or  perhaps  in  this  case  money  from 
the  bank  would  be  a  better  illustration  to  express 
the  relative  ease  of  getting  as  compared  with  creating 
— you  secure  just  what  you  go  for.  You  have  in 
your  mind  to  draw  fives,  twenties,  tens,  bullion, 
drafts — you  look  for  disposition,  for  talent,  personal 
habits,  business  habits,  social  qualities,  for  fine  rhet- 
oric, veins  of  poetry,  logic,  sophistry — each  or  all, 
you  get  according  to  the  practiced  eye  you  bring  to 
the  search,  and  the  fulness  and  variety  of  the  treasury 
from  which  you  draw.  The  scientist  notes  configu- 
rations and  mineralogical  conditions  which  reveal  to 
him  the  secret  of  the  ore-bank  in  what  to  your  untu- 
tored vision  is  but  a  scantily  wooded  hill.  (I  did  not 
much  relish  this  disparagement  of  my  geological 
knowledge,  but  took  pains  not  to  show  my  annoy- 
ance.) Celia  will  find  fifty  four-leaved  clover-stalks 
while  you  are  sauntering  about  idly  peering  for  your 
first." ' 

This  illustration  was  so  true  to  fact,  that  I  blushed 
while  I  smiled,  recalling  the  scenes  (of  which  Pater 
was  in  profound  ignorance)  of  our  last  ramble. 

"  Then  again,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  read  for  ideas. 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  bOANE.  357 

that  is  another  tiling.  So  you  must  read  Hamil- 
ton, Locke,  Aristotle,  and  metaphysics  generally,  until 
you  become  familiar  with  the  science  as  it  now  stands, 
the  embodiment  or  representative  of  a  thousand  flash- 
ing brains,  after  which  you  can  strike  out  for  your- 
self." 

I  now  remarked  that  each  and  all  these  points  were 
to  be  considered  in  our  study. 

"  It  is  plain,  then,"  he  resumed,  "  that  you  want  the 
best  man  and  the  best  writer.  If  he  have  a  genius 
for  writing,  with  no  background  of  moral  character, 
you  can  neither  love  nor  reverence  him,  however 
much  you  may  admire  his  writings.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  he  be  a  model  in  all  the  relations  of  life — 
husband,  father,  citizen,  friend,  and  write  feebly,  you 
cannot  admire  his  productions,  however  much  you 
may  love  and  reverence  the  man.  All  have  faults  ; 
necessarily,  human  nature  has  not  yet  put  on  per- 
fection ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  your  requirements 
are  to  be  met  in  the  wisest  writer  with  the  fewest 
blemishes  of  character*" 

"Gran,"  who  sat  in  her  high-backed  chair,  straight 
as  an  Indian  and  working  like  a  Trojan  at  her  self- 
imposed  task — why,  I  have  one  drawer  full  now  of 
her  knitted  articles — had  been  duly  posted  by  your 
obedient  servant  as  to  the  general  drift  of  the  con- 
versation, and  now  inquired  timidly  if  any  one  had 
mentioned  Bunyan. 

"  Bunyan  has  a  clear  spiritual  insight,"  said  the 
dear  soul,  "  and  Isaiah,  too,  is  a  sublime  writer,  and 
I  am  sure  you'll  find,  very  pretty  reading  in  Samuel  " 
(not  at  all  disposed  to  have  her  Bible  heroes  over- 
looked in  the  discussion  and  left  out  of  the  list  for  the 
championship),  "  and  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  has 
stirred  more  hearts  than  all  your  authors  put  to- 
gether!" she  exclaimed  boldly,  dropping  her  knit- 
ting, and  with  something  of  a  flash  in  those  still  bril- 
liant eyes  -"  and  that  is  what  you  call  eloquence, 
isn't  it?" 

I  explained  that  we  were  expected  to  read  the  Bible, 


353  THIS  OPAL  QUEEN. 

and  what  we  now  wished  to  ascertain  was  the  writer 
in  secular  literature  who  would  serve  as  the  best 
model. 

"  Well,  well,"  she  said,  with  a  slight  shade  of  an- 
noyance, for  she  never  likes  to  seem  not  to  under- 
stand, "you  may  hunt  your  libraries  through  and  not 
find  one  fit  for  a  model — 'Put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,'  Channing !  Put  Him  on  just  as  Booth  does 
Hamlet.  Forrest  did  Macbeth.  Study  His  character 
just  as  faithfully  as  Booth  studies  the  one  he  is  going 
to  assume — try  to  be  Him  !  I  know  you  can't  do  that," 
she  said,  looking  squarely  at  me  over  her  spectacles, 
"but  you  can  try,  and  you  will  be  Christ-like,  and 
that  is  enough  for 

'Poor, -pale-faced,  mortal  clay, 
Gone  to-morrow,  here  to-day.' 

What  does  Booth  try  to  do?  Isn't  it  to  act  exactly 
as  he  thinks  Hamlet  did  in  each  situation  and  under 
all  circumstances?  How  does  he  learn  how  to  do  it? 
By  studying  the  history  of  the  times,  and  every  action 
and  word  of  Hamlet,  through  his  whole  career — then 
he  can  put  him  on,  and  go  before  people  and  act  him 
out, — that's  the  way,  Channing,  to  'put  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.'  Study  the  best  model,  and  you'll  win 
the  most  stars,  my  child." 

"Gran's"  voice  had  gradually  taken  her  usual  fine, 
far-away  tone,  but  there  was  an  inexpressible  gentle- 
ness in  her  closing  sentence,  and  when  she  said,  "  Win 
the  most  stars,  my  child,"  it  was  subdued  and  elo- 
quent as  an  angers. 

Dear,  dear  "Gran!"  lam  half  inclined  to  be- 
lieve she  is  right,  Art,  when  I  think  of  the  empti- 
ness of  fame  and  how  quickly  we  are  borne  away  out 
of  sight  and  sound  of  all  this  glittering  show  we  call 
life,  to  lie  cold  and  still  "  under  the  daisies."  But  I 
am  moralizing  and —  (Tut!  tut!  this  will  never  do! 
I  think  some  of  the  attenuated  vapor  in  the  comet's 
tail  must  have  got  into  my  eyes — they  are  so  dim 
just  now.) 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  359 

And  yet  I  know  that  nearly  all  the  great  have  had 
a  model — they  may  not  have  recognized  it  as  such, 
but  there  has  been  one  great  master-spirit  to  which 
theirs  bowed,  and  whose  animus  they  imbibed. 
Carlyle  had  his  Goethe,  Goethe  had  Jean  Paul,  did  he 
not?  Scores  have  had  Shakespeare,  and  scores  more 
have  never  told  us  the  name  of  their  inspiring  genius. 

Rejecting  rumor  and  traditionary  gossip,  and  taking 
only  authorized  accounts  of  his  life,  the  Professor 
desires  us  to  become  so  familiar  with  our  author's 
history  that  we  shall  be  able  to  cite  any  incident  in 
his  career  ;  and  as  it  is  noteworthy  that  only  the  main 
facts  can  be  given  in  biographical  histories,  and  those 
are  presumably  of  interest  because  selected,  this 
charge  seems  neither  trifling  nor  unreasonable.  We 
are  to  get  permeated  with  his  identity,  saturated  with 
his  spirit,  so  that,  when  we  come  from  contact  with 
him  into  the  realms  of  the  living,  we  may  give  them 
the  benefit  of  the  drippings  which  will  flow  from  us 
in  revivifying  streams. 

Have  you  seen  "  Blind  Tom  "  in  one  of  his  analyt- 
ical studies  of  music — spells,  trances,  you  might  not 
inaptly  term  them  ? 

While  the  musician  touches  the  keys,  have  you 
seen  him  sitting  by,  mute,  motionless,  with  folded 
arms  and  heaving  chest,  the  eyelids  closed  (only  the 
inner  vision  awake,  alert),  drinking  in  the  rich 
burst  of  harmony,  deftly  extricating  from  it  the 
mechanics  of  the  accompaniment  and  the  clear  strains 
of  the  melody?  Have  you  observed  the  deepened 
breathings,  the  occasional  undertones — half  concealed, 
half  audible — of  repressive  power  and  nervous  ex- 
citement, as  now,  in  steadily  increasing  sympathy 
with  the  composer,  he  becomes  impressed  with  the 
rhythmic  measure,  his  body  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the 
exact  movement  of  the  composition,  his  soul  laboring 
in  the  tumult  of  impassioned  feeling,  until  at  last  he 
is  en  rapport  with  the  composer?  Hs  has  imbibed 
his  spirit,  it  overflows,  his  finger-ends  are  tingling 
with  it,  and  he  is  now  ready  to  reproduce  it!  Nay 


360  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

more,  with  that  as  a  nucleus,  have  you  heard  him 
continue  and  enlarge  the  theme  with  musical  group- 
ings, lights  and  shadows,  all  his  own  ? 

But  to  return.  My  mind  is  very  much  inclined  to 
Carlyle.  I  call  him  a  literary  hero  of  a  noble  type, 
and  a  writer  of  consummate  skill  and  vigor  in  his 
line.  And  will  not  that  line  furnish  me  with  an 
equipment  of  ideas  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  minor 
authors  in  more  miscellaneous  departments? 

I  think  the  study  of  his  life  will  stimulate  me  to 
•develop  the  one  great  energy,  perseverance  (in  which 
I  fear  I  am  constitutionally  deficient — Mother  Nature 
got  a  parsimonious  streak  when  the  distribution  came 
tome),  as  well  as  conform  my  style  to  an  unimpeach- 
able standard. 

I  shall  wait  impatiently  to  hear  your  views  on  this 
subject. 

A  decision  of  this  kind  ought  not  to  be  formed 
at  once.  Pater's  fears  were  aroused  lest  I  should 
decide  too  hastily  ;  but  when  he  learned  that  we  had 
three  months  to  reflect  upon  it,  he  seemed  quite  satis- 
fied that  I  would  come  out  all  right.  I  thoroughly 
appreciate  this  privilege  of  making  sure  of  the  merits 
of  favorite  authors  by  renewed  attention  to  their 
works,  and  of  reviewing  the  merits  of  others  with 
whom  we  are  not  so  familiar,  reserving  our  decision 
until  we  enter  the  second  term — become  Boddoes. 
Then  during  the  rest  of  the  course  it  is  obligatory 
upon  us  to  stick  to  our  chosen  guide. 

So  we  have  our  little  caucuses  on  all  important 
matters ;  and  like  all  caucuses,  we  are  blest  with  a 
leader,  Pater  usually  taking  that  role  upon  himself, 
reminding  one,  in  his  zeal  to  control  each  member  of 
the  coterie,  of  a  certain  House-leader  in*  Congress. 

The  watchful,  indefatigable  Washburne,  at  one 
time  the  leader  of  his  party,  ever  on  the  alert  himself, 
like  the  old  Roman,  to  "see  that  no  harm  befell  the 
republic,"  and  anxious  that  every  man  in  the  party 
should  record  himself  aright,  would  invariably  "drum 
up  "  the  members  on  the  floor  ;  rallying  his  forces  to 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  361 

the  front  when  voting-  was  in  order,  crying  out  lustily 
to  the  laz\r,  the  undecided,  the  inattentive,  or  the 
preoccupied  member  not  on  his  feet,  "  Up  !  Brown, 
Up  !  Smith,  Up  !  Jones,  Up  !  Up  !  "  accompanying 
each  exclamation  with  a  motion  which  of  itself  was 
eloquent  enough  to  lift  them  out  of  the  quasi-hori- 
zontal into  the  perpendicular— a  raising  motion,  vig- 
orous, brisk,  nervous,  in  striking  contrast  with  the 
indolent,  indifferent,  mechanical  way  in  which  they 
obeyed  the  summons. 

But  sometimes,  under  Pater's  leadership — be  it 
observed  with  all  deference — I  don't  "Up"  even 
when  he  raises  the  rally  ing-cry.  Then  I  am  rein- 
forced by  Superba  and  "  Gran,"  and  it  generally 
ends  in  Pater's  beating  an  ignominious  retreat. 

Know,  old  "  t'other  half,"  that  I  shall  be  deep  in 
T.  Carlyle,  et  aL,  all  my  spare  time  now,  and  don't 
dare  to  expect  such  a  lengthened  epistle  as  this,  for 
a  space  and  half  a  space  !  But,  meantime,  give  me 
the  benefit  of  your  reflecting  mind  fully,  on  this 
weighty  matter.  If  I  am  in  danger  of  shipwreck  or 
smash-up,  I  want  to  know  it,  and  would  accept  the 
unwelcome  information  from  none  so  cheerfully  as 
from  my  astute  and  well-beloved  chum. 

Faithfully, 

CHAN. 


362  fltE  OPAL  QUEEN. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

SIXTH  "EXAMINATION" — CULTIVATION  OF  A  GOOD 
STYLE. 

"  WOULD  you  say,  Critobivlus,  that  the  musical 
professor  has  a  certain  technique,  to  which  he  re- 
quires absolute  fidelity  in  his  pupils  ?  " 

"  If  one  wishes  to  master  the  art  of  music,  he  must 
study  the  mechanical  part  of  it  with  arbitrary  exact- 
ness, Ulysses." 

"  And  is  the  same  true  of  sketching  and  painting, 
Critobulus?" 

"  Undoubtedly,  Ulysses." 

"  Would  it  be  fair,  then,  to  draw  the  conclusion 
that  in  each  art  there  is  a  key,  so  to  speak,  which, 
after  constant  use,  turns  easily  the  whole  machinery 
of  the  complex  harmony  of  tones,  whether  of  color  or 
of  sound  or  of  imagery?" 

"  Doubtless  you  are  right,  Ulysses,  as  the  '  key  '  to 
perfection  in  any  branch — if  it  be  only  the  simple 
art  of  story-telling — is  repetition." 

"The  musical  professor  says  to  his  pupil,  'The 
scales!  the  scales!  the  scales!'  The  professor  of 
sketching  says,  '  Draw  !  draw  !  draw  ! '  What,  then, 
shall  the  professor  of  design  in  literature  say,  but, 
'Write!  write!  write!'  What  we  do  not  possess, 
my  good  young  friends,  we  must  make  ;  and  let  me 
say,  for  your  comfort,  that  sometimes  the  artificial 
comes  very  close  to  the  natural.  Now,  in  order 
to  compose  successfully,  Critobulus,  what  supplies 
must  you  have  on  hand  as  your  composing  fund?" 

"  Evidently  a  supply  of  words  and  ideas,  Ulysses." 


EXAMINATION.  ,%3 

"  Is  it  necessary,  then,  to  be  a  philologist — a  lover 
of  words  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Ulysses,  that  the  successful 
writer  must  appreciate  words — their  fine  shades  of 
meaning,  their  force,  their  fitness — and  in  that  sense 
he  would  be  a  lover  of  them.  I  find  myself  quite 
proud  and  happy,  sometimes,  when  introduced  to  a 
word,  as  if  it  were  a  rare  acquaintance  who  would  be 
of  use  to  me." 

"  Words  are  your  pigments,  Critobulus,  and 
your  brain-tubes  must  be  full  of  a  choice  variety. 
And  here  your  knowledge  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
tongues  will  be  of  advantage  in  enabling  you  to 
seize  and  fix  them  through  their  etymological  bear- 
ings. You  need  to  add  daily  to  your  stock  by  com- 
munion with  the  best  authors." 

"  I  have  heard  it  said,  Ulysses,  that  Chancellor 
Kent  read  Blackstone  through  without  getting  an 
idea." 

"  But  was  insensibly  equipping,  himself  with  his 
tools,  Ibycus.  You  may  have  an  incipient  shoe  in 
the  glowing  iron,  but,  if  the  hammer  and  anvil  are 
wanting,  the  shoe  will  remain  invisible.  So  you  may 
read  Homer  through,  if  you  are  only  an  English 
reader,  without  getting  an  idea ;  but  you  will  find  it 
impossible  to  resist  the  grandeur  of  its  majestic  sim- 
plicity, and  the  sounding  march  of  its  rhythmic 
melody  will  haunt  every  chamber  of  your  brain,  and 
fill  it  with  imagery — a  no  small  good,  Ibycus." 

"  I  would  have  you  read  Xenophon  for  perspicuity 
and  elegance,  Homer  for  grandeur  and  simplicity, 
Milton  for  lofty  thought,  choicest  utterance,  rich  and 
solemn  imagery,  Carlyle  for  vigor  and  originality, 
both  of  style  and  thought,  and  for  courageous  dic- 
tion ;  read  Carlyle  and  Goethe  for  ideas,  read 
Dickens  and  '  Twain  '  for  humor,  read  Ruskin  for 
noblest  Christian  sentiment  conjoined  with  purest 
artistic  insight  and  conceptions  ;  and  I  would  have 
you  read  your  Bible  for  inspiration,  for  a  clear 
spiritual  vision,  and  a  '  closer  walk  with  God.' 


364  WE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

"  But,  while  cultivation  of  style  is  good  and  neces- 
sary for  the  finished  writer,  be  careful  not  to  sacrifice 
sense  to  style ;  the  substance  is  more  precious  than 
the  form,  the  idea  than  the  dress.  Have  in  your 
mind  only  the  desire  to  present  truth  vividly,  pun- 
gently,  and  the  spirit  will  shape  its  own  agencies  for 
the  communication.  You  will  thus  have  your  own 
style,  subject,  doubtless,  to  classification  under  one 
or  more  of  the  known  orders,  but  essentially  your 
own.  Especially  will  this  be  the  case  if  yon  have 
been  allowed  to  follow  your  natural  bent  in  the  small 
discoveries  and  inventions  which  belong  to  the 
imaginative  period  of  youth,  and  fill  the  childhood 
days  with  delight." 

The  Professor  then  took  a  volume  from  the  desk, 
and  read  aloud  the  following  idyllic  passage  : — 

"On  one  occasion  I  was  detained  all  day  and  all  night  at  a  house 
of  this  kind,  in  listening  to  the  tunes  of  a  young  man  of  the 
family,  who  played  well  upon  the  Scottish  pipes.  I,  in  turn, 
whistled  several  Tyneside  tunes  to  him;  so  that  we  could  hardly 
get  separated.  Before  my  departure,  next  day,  I  contrived,  by 
stealth,  to  put  some  money  into  the  hands  of  the  children.  I  had 
not  got  far  from  the  house  till  I  was  pursued  by  a  beautiful 
woman,  who  accosted  me  in  'badish'  English,  which  she  must 
have  got  off  by  heart  just  before  she  left  the  house,  the  purport  of 
which  was  to  urge  my  acceptance  of  the  usual  present.  This  I 
wished  to  refuse;  but,  with  a  face  and  neck  blushed  with  scarlet, 
she  pressed  it  upon  me  with  such  sweetness— while  I  thought,  at 
the  same  time,  that  she  invited  me  to  return — that  (I  could  not 
help  it)  I  seized  her,  and  smacked  her  lips.  She  then  sprang  away 
from  me,  with  her  bare  legs,  like  a  deer,  and  left  me  fixed  to  the 
spot,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  her 
whole  handsome  appearance.  It  was  a  compound  of  loveliness, 
health,  and  agility.  Her  hair,  I  think,  had  been  flaxen  or  light, 
but  was  tanned  to  a  pale  brown  by  being  exposed  to  the  sun. 
This  was  tied  to  a  ribbon,  and  dangled  down  her  back;  and  as  she 
bounded  along  it  flowed  in  the  air.  I  had  not  seen  her  while  I 
was  in  the  house,  and  felt  grieved  because  I  could  not  hope 
ever  to  see  her  more." 

"  In  this  bucolic  sketch,  the  most  uncultivated 
student,  with  an  eye  for  the  beautiful,  will  recog- 
nize an  exquisite  drawing  by  the  hand  of  a  master. 
It  is  an  etching,  and  it  is  more — for,  besides  the 
invention  and  outlines,  you  have  here  and  there 


SIXTH  EXAMINATION.  355 

rare  touches  of  color.     In  it  reside  the  germs  of  three 
pictures,  oil  paintings,  if  you  will,  after  Hogarth  or 

\TT-11      •  f  O 

Wilkie. 

"  A  room,  bright  with  its  culinary  decorations  on 
wall  and  dresser,  and  with  the  merry  eyes  and  laugh- 
ing dimples  of  rosy-cheeked  children,  becomes  vocal 
with  music — now  in  the  weird  minor  of  the  bagpipes, 
now  in  the  merry  whistling  of  English  ballad  and 
song,  now  in  social  laugh  and  chatter  of  male  and 
female  voices. 

"  That  is  the  material  for  your  first  picture. 

"  For  your  second,  you  portray  just  outside  the  low, 
gambrel-roofed,  chimney-hooded  cottage,  with  its 
surrounding  low  hedge  of  silver-edged  holly — under 
a  many-branched  tree,  the  guest  bending  over  three 
upturned  curly  heads — happy,  childish  faces  all  aglow 
with  innocent  curiosity. 

"But  your  central  picture,  the  last  in  the  narrative, 
is  so  full  of  incident  that  you  must  select  the  most 
prominent,  or  stretch  your  canvas  into  a  panorama. 

"  Under  the  blue  of  heaven,  in  the  midst  of  waving 
grain  and  crimson  poppies,  a  rustic  beauty,  with  eyes 
of  lustrous  hue,  the  pale  brown  of  her  hair  shading 
into  gold,  with  blushing  downcast  mien,  now  presents 
with  graceful  modesty  the  parting  present  and  blush- 
ingly  urges  its  acceptance,  now  removes  the  embargo 
from  the  sweet  chalice  of  her  lips,  now  flees  like  a 
frightened  deer  back  to  its  covert. 

"  Here  is  the  keen  perception  of  the  artist,  in  the 
quick  and  minute  delineation  of  the  figure,  the  dress, 
the  attitudes  and  expression,  and  the  bounding  flight 
(which  left  him  transfixed  to  the  spot  by  the  appari- 
tion's sudden  disappearance),  the  shaded  hair,  the 
floating  ribbon  which  tied  the  ends — all  in  a  few 
seconds  of  time. 

"  Here  is  all  the  poetry  of  the  boy  that  loved  to 
f  lighten  the  oxen  into  the  river  to  hear  the  '  delight- 
ful dash  ; '  all  the  art  of  the  young  man  who  devised 
the  vignettes  and  tail-pieces  for  the  'Select  Fables;'  ' 
all  the  painter's  love  of  color,  and  the  author's  sim- 
plicity and  quaintness  of  diction.  This  picture, 


366  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

traced  on  the  retina  of  his  eye  in  a  few  fleeting 
seconds,  is  crystallized  for  us  in  print  after  fifty  long 
years  (during  which  other  scenes  in  life's  miscel- 
laneous picture-gallery  were  caught  by  the  same 
lens)  in  a  few  vivid  lines  of  graphic  power. 

"  It  proves  him  to  have  possessed,  besides  the  brain- 
memory  that  locks  up  in  its  mystic  chambers  incidents 
of  the  passing  hour — the  eye-memory  which  '  went  out 
and  looked  at  things,  and  came  home  and  drew  them.' 

"  But  there  is  more  than  the  artist  and  author  here 
— there  is  a  striking  view  of  the  man  himself :  the 
genial  guest  that  would  contribute  his  share  to  the 
social  entertainment,  and  found  and  gave  such 
sympathy  and  fellowship  that  he  '  could  hardly  get 
separated;'  the  benevolent  soul  that  had  a  kindly 
corner  for  children  in  his  heart ;  the  warm-hearted, 
impulsive  being  that  'could  not  help  it;'  the  tender, 
susceptible  youth  that  grieved  because  he  '  could  not 
hope  to  see  her  more  ' — all  this  of  the  man's  character, 
besides  the  fresh  and  charming  idyl,  in  a  brief  sketch 
of  twenty  lines. 

"  But  this  could  never  have  been  done  without 
trained  habits  of  observation,,  gathered  in  the  long 
years  of  childhood,  youth,  and  maturity.  And  this 
trained  habit,  apparent  now  in  his  seventy-fifth  year, 
while  writing  the  '  Memoir '  from  which  this  extract 
is  taken,  Thomas  Bewick  pre-eminently  possessed. 
It  was  his — lie  made  it.  He  was  without  the  culture 
of  the  schools,  having  had  only  an  elementary  educa- 
tion, but  he  had  the  three  qualities  essential  to 
literature — observation,  delineation,  and  'invention 
were  his  in  such  a  marked  degree  that  it  is  safe  to 
say  he  would  have  been  as  successful  in  literature  as 
in  engraving,  had  he  chosen  this  art. 

"  In  conclusion,  my  good  young  friends,  permit  me 
to  give  one  admonition. 

"  The  world  of  literature  is  open  before  you,  and, 
like  the  bee,  you  may  flit  from  flower  to  flower  in 
gathering  up  your  honeyed  store ;  but  be  sure  that 
you  have  as  true  an  instinct  as  the  bee  in  your  choice. 
Shun  trash  and  obscenity  as  you  would  poison." 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DO  AN  IS.  367 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE. 

DEAR  ART:— 

This  literary  business  is  not  all  a  "  bed  of  down," 
as  I  realized  to  my  cost  last  night.  I  had  had  a 
heavy  day  contending  with  an  essay  on  the  "  Char- 
acteristics of  the  Age ;  "  fishing  up  authorities  on 
other  ages  to  make  effective  comparisons  ;  diving 
anew  into  my  Juvenal,  Aristophanes,  Sophocles,  and 
Euripides,  to  get  the  popular  follies  denounced  by 
those  eminent  dramatists,  and  worrying  not  a  little 
in  the  effort  to  establish  my  equation,  and  find  out 
the  comparative  values  of  the  unknown  quantities  x 
and  y — which  in  this  case  stood  for  art  and  religion. 
At  last,  about  eleven  of  the  clock,  Pater  came  in 
as  usual  to  get  the  temperance-beaker  to  his  sherry 
"night  cap,"  which  (you  may  not  be  aware)  is  the 
picture  of  his  "young  hopeful  "  drawn  up  before  the 
table,  his  hand  scribbling  under  the  astral  the  im- 
mortal thoughts  that  are  to  fix  an  imperishable  halo 
upon  the  name  of  Earle.  I  concluded  to  take  his  ap- 
pearance as  my  own  dismissal  to  the  beautiful  realm, 
and  seek  my  feverish  couch ;  and  really,  Art,  the 
vision  of  the  dear  old  man  in  his  long  gown  and  tas- 
seled  cap,  with  the  lighted  candle  in  his  hand  and 
the  serenest  of  paternal  smiles  on  his  face,  ought  to 
be  a  panacea  to  the  fevered  brain  of  any  dutiful,  well- 
regulated  son.  What  then  could  be  more  logically 
inferential  than  that  it  ought  to  be  one  to  me  ? 

I  escorted  (not  flung)   myself — after  due   respect 
to  the  disrobing  process — decorously  to  my  "  unsung 


368  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

and  unwept  couch,"  whispered  to  myself  a  soft,  good- 
night, and — "fell  off  into  slumber  land,"  do  you 
say?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Lights  out!  is  a  good  com- 
mand, but  it  does  not  infallibly  extinguish  the  lights 
within. 

Busier  than  ever,  the  phosphorescent  brain-waves 
were  all  aglow,  and  in  their  weird  radiance  I  found 
myself  constructing  sentences,  with  an  exquisite,  sil- 
very finish,  as  it  seemed  to  me  in  my  partially  dazed 
state.  There  were  some  in  particular  that  would  not 
leave  me. 

I  conned  them  over  and  over,  and  stowed  them 
away  in  my  cerebral  lock-up  for  future  use,  then 
again  courted  sleep:  this  time  with  some  show  of  suc- 
cess, for  I  was  just  upon  the  dizzy  verge,  when — -hang 
it  all! — 1  felt  a  shock  that  was  like  a  charge  from  a 
hundred  Leyden  jars,  and  awoke  with  a  start,  to  find 
Duty  pulling  at  me  to  get  up  and  write  it  down  im- 
mediately, for  in  the  morning  it  would  be  dust  and 
ashes  ! 

Remembering  my  promise  to  Superba,  and  men- 
tally denouncing  the  whole  scribbling  fraternity,  I 
turned  over  to  light  the  candle  which  is  always  on  a 
table  by  my  bed-side.  Carefully  feeling  all  over  the 
top,  nothing  whatever  came  in  contact  witli  my  pha- 
langes— that  night  of  all  nights,  the  only  one  in  which 
such  a  literary  revelry  had  been  possible — orderly, 
methodical  Phillis  had  omitted  to  put  the  illumina- 
tor in  its  accustomed  place  !  I  knew  then,  Art,  that 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  turnout  and  light  up 
the  "  Student." 

But  the  domestic  element  was  not  the  only  one 
arrayed  against  me,  Art — the  forces  of  Nature  had 
evidently  conspired  with  Phillis.  Probably  consider- 
ing that  a  smart  lesson  in  "heroics"  would  put  new 
tone  into  me,  old  Mother  Nature  stirred  some  frost 
into  the  air  that  night  by  way  of  variety,  and  I  stood 
there  shivering  while  I  drew  off  the  contents  of  the 
match-box  without  getting  one  spark  ! 

Thunder  and  Lightning! — what  did  it  mean?     I 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  369 

wished  in  my  soul  that  it  would  lighten,  for  then  I 
could  see ;  or  that  I  had  the  necessary  saltpetre, 
charcoal,  and  sulphur  to  mix  up  a  little  for  home  con- 
sumption. 

Never  make  a  promise,  Art,  and  then  you'll  never 
rue  it.  I  paused  to  consider  the  next  step.  I  knew 
that  if  Superba  caught  the  sound  of  my  endeavors, 
she  would  have  the  whole  household  summoned  to 
my  aid  and  hers,  to  account  for  the  missing  links  be- 
tween me  and  the  world  of  light.  I  knew  I  could 
pull  my  bell  and  summon  Phillis,  who  would  think 
it  only  a  just  expiation  of  her  crime  if  she  should 
be  kept  wandering  through  the  halls  all  night.  But 
what  can  a  man  do,  Art,  when  he  is  filled  with  a 
weak  generosity  towards  the  fair  sex?  My  warm 
heart  would  not  permit  me  to  disturb  the  serenity  of 
the  female  mind,  or  expose  h«r  slightly  draped  form 
to  the  chances  of  rheumatism  and  what  not.  So  after 
upsetting  a  vase  or  two  and  fumbling  over  everything 
on  the  table,  from  a  book  to  the  piece  of  eraser,  I  at 
last  fastened  to  a  pencil.  A  raid  for  some  paper  was 
clearly  next  in  order.  My  ardor  being  now  some- 
what cooled,  I  decided  to  write  upon  anything  that 
came  to  hand  (how  literal !)  presenting  a  flat  sur- 
face, even  if  it  should  be  my  diploma  !  It  would  be 
reasonable  enough  to  expect  to  find  a  literary  man's 
table  scattered  all  over  with  blank  sheets — but  the 
acutest  thinker  will  sometimes  be  caught  without  his 
kerchief  when  he  has  a  cold,  and  to  my  dismay,  Art, 
I  remembered  now  that  I  had  just  finished  the  last 
page  of  a  quire,  as  Pater  put  his  head  in  the  door. 
If  I  wrote  on  my  manuscript  I  might  succeed  in  mak- 
ing a  fine  palimpsest,  to  be  sure,  but  where  would  be 
the  Tischendorf  in  the  morning  to  decipher  it?  I 
thought  of  the  fly-leaf  of  my  Bible,  but  remembered 
that  it  was  full  of  sage  maxims  and  holy  verses  copied 
by  dear  "Gran's"  old,  trembling  fingers,  and  my 
reverence  for  age  wouldn't  let  me  touch  that. 

Luckily  now  I  felt  something  hard  as  I  leaned 
against  the  back  of  the  chair  in  which  I  was  sitting 


370  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

in  despair,  and  at  once  discovered  that  it  was  the 
pocket  of  my  waistcoat.  With  a  sigh  of  relief  I  remem- 
bered a  note  sent  by  the  fair  Celia  that  day.  It  was 
soon  in  my  benumbed  fingers — for,  mind  you,  I  was 
still  clad  in  the  "trailing  garment  of  the  night "- 
expecting  when  I  first  left  my  snug  quarters  to  make 
a  dash  and  turn  in  again  in  a  Hash,  1  had  not  seen  (oh, 
the  satire  of  the  figure !)  a  moment  since  when  I 
could  stop  to  get  on  my  dressing-gown. 

I  wrote  as  well  as  I  could  in  the  dark.  I  send  you 
the  copy  to  put  you  in  a  certain  sense  in  juxtaposi- 
tion with  my  misery,  trusting  to  the  honor  of  a  friend 
that  you  let  not  your  eyes  linger  too  fondly  on  the 
fair  Celia's  chirography.  Siie  would  send  me  to  Cov- 
entry for  a  month  and  a  day  if  she  knew  it  had  been 
out  of  my  hands,  but  I  can  trust  your  honor  and  in 
the  interests  of  art,  you  know,  find  myself  excusable. 

Superba  laughed  and  wept  by  turns  when  I  re- 
counted my  midnight  adventure  at  the  breakfast- 
table  ;  pronounced  me  of  martyr-stuff,  said  she  always 
knew  I  had  a  talent  for  literature,  and  the-  genius 
of  perseverance  (and  Pater  put  in,  gifted  with  the 
courage  of  his  convictions — which  was  particularly 
soothing  as  I  was  at  that  moment  privately  berating 
myself  for  a  stupid  idiot),  and  that  the  sentences  were 
brilliant  and  cutting  as  a  diamond — "  really  quite 
Horatian  now,  dear,"  she  added,  fondly. 

She  assured  me  that  I  should  "never,  never,  be  so 
put  about  again,"  for  some  way  must  be  contrived 
for  me  to  have  everything  convenient— (as  if  it  wasn't 
too  utterly  convenient  now,  dear  soul !) — and  she  was 
sure  that  she  could  have  an  electric  light  introduced 
at  my  head-board,  so  that  by  simply  touching  the 
knob,  light  would  be  there  ;  "  and  perhaps  I  can  so  ar- 
range it,"  she  said  reflectingly,  "  that  you  can  touch 
a  spring  and  open  a  drawer  also,  in  the  bed — only 
that  is  a  little  more  doubtful,"  she  said,  slowly  shak- 
ing her  head. 

Dear  Superba!  she  would  have  knobs  all  over 
me  if  that  would  only  spring  me  into  literary  celeb- 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  VOANE.  371 

rity  ! — and  she  is  actually  out  on  a  mission  this  morn- 
ing, to  have  the  thing  in  working  order  by  night,  i 
doubt  not  she  will  succeed,  for  when  has  the  good 
soul  failed  in  anything  she  has  undertaken  to  sim- 
plify for  me  this  crawling  into  fame  ?  She  extorted  a 
promise  however,  that  I  should  not  use  it  for  any 
lengthened  inspiration,  only  for  striking  iridescent 
fragments,  likelast  night's  production.  There  were  a 
few  others  of  an  epigrammatic  nature,  one  of  which 
Superba  declared  worthy  of  Socrates,  and  which, 
she  said,  showed  that  I  had  "workedit  out " — not  know- 
ing, dear  innocent  critic,  that  the  very  thing  to  con- 
demn it  would  be  the  indication  of  labor.  But  she 
had  the  local  setting  in  her  mind,  which  was  doubt- 
less enough  to  make  it  heroic — the  midnight  quarry 
and  the  son,  who  is  her  heart's  idol,  toiling  away  at 
his  excavations  ;  in  the  very  nature  of  the  case  he 
would  dig  out  nuggets  of  glittering  gold.  (I  will 
give  you  the  thoughts.) 

This  art-decorating,  finger-polishing  age  !  An  age 
when  manners  usurp  the  place  of  morals,  and  fine 
speeches  are  considered  a  substitute  for  noble  feelings. 
An  age  in  which  Chesterfields  are  indigenous  and 
Garfields  exotics.  An  age  when  each  sex  takes  for 
its  motto,  Arise,  shine  in  the  social  world  !  An  age 
in  which  a  generous  rivalry  in  bangles  and  almond- 
shaped  nails  stimulates  the  minds  of  our  girls,  and 
the  "german"  and  the  bicycle  cultivate  the  muscle 
of  our  boys ! 

The  Professor  smiled  when  we  gave  him  some  of 
the  picturesque  effects  of  our  loyality. 

He  says  we  must  win  the  muse  by  devotion  to  her 
most  trifling  wish,  her  lightest  whisper.  Capricious, 
haughty,  and  exacting,  she  is  fond  of  coquetry,  but 
not  in  her  lover.  From  him  she  will  not  take  a  slight 
or  suspicion  of  indifference.  She  penetrates  the  dis- 
guise in  which  the  half-assent  of  the  reluctant  wooer 
lies  concealed,  and  values  it  accordingly.  He  said : 

"  She  is  trying  you  now,  advancing  coyly,  but  never- 
theless expecting  recognition,  admiration,and  homage. 


3T2  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

You  may  discourage  her  by  indifference,  or  ignore 
and  thus  repulse  her. 

"At  first  she  approaches  timidly,  stealing  behind 
you,  and  vanishing  when  you  turn  and  look  at  her.  But 
if  you  are  an  ardent  suitor,  you  wait  and  watch  for 
her  coming  once  more.  She  repays  you  with  a  smile, 
and  bow  of  recognition  to  your  face.  Again  you 
wait,  and  watch,  and  lo !  she  comes  with  a  gentle 
dignity  and  holds  converse  with  you.  Now  you  are 
enraptured — but  be  cautious  ! — she  is  erratic.  You 
have  enticed  her  into  your  presence,  her  stay  depends 
upon  your  fealty.  When  she  discovers,  after  repeated 
visits,  sincerity  in  your  devotions  and  alacrity  in  your 
obedience  to  her  whims  as  well  as  her  requirements, 
with  easy  frankness,  and  yet  with  dignified  sweetness, 
at  last  she  is  all  your  own.  But  she  is  a  jealous  mis- 
tress, and  will  share  with  no  one  else  her  rights.  You 
must  be  her  willing  slave  if  you  would  wear  her  lov- 
ing favors." 

But,  notwithstanding  all  the  encouragement  held 
out  by. the  Professor,  dear  Art,  I  am  still  skeptical  of 
my  success.  A  man's  vocation  is  born  in  him,  not 
made  for  him,  and,  when  too  late,  I  fear  my  devoted 
parents  will  concede  that  the  art  of  literature  was 
not  born  in  me — mathematics  was.  I  have  been  a 
Euclid  from  my  cradle,  and  for  my  tombstone 
desire  no  better  inscription  than  Archimedes' : — 


After   all,  there    is  nothing  like^trying,    and  nil 
desperandum  is  still  the  motto  of, 

Faithfully  yours, 

CHANNING. 


SEVENTH  EXAMINATION.  373 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SEVENTH    "  EXAMINATION  " — LACK   OF  INCIDENT   IN 
THE  NOVEL. 

"  ANSWER  me  this  question,  Achilles :  is  it  not 
clear  that  authors  are  pushing  their  metaphysical 
analysis  of  motive  a  little  too  far  in  our  modern 
novel  ?  " 

"  I  grant,  Ulysses,  that  it  is  painfully  monotonous 
to  follow  the  lengthened  and  frivolous  discussions 
on  '  Why  Stanhope  deserted  his  wife,'  or  '  What  all 
the  world  thought  about  the  way  Serena  parted  her 
hair.'  We  are  reminded  of  the  debates  of  the  Middle 
Age  schoolmen,  philosophically  speculating  on  the 
number  of  spirits  that  could  sit  on  the  point  of  the 
finest  cambric  needle — discussions  as  useless  in  the 
one  "case  as  the  other,  it  seems  tome,  and  productive 
of  the  most  barren  amusement." 

"  But  are  you  not  acquainted  with  the  fact,  Achilles, 
that  it  is  the  fashion  to  approve  this  kind  of  novel  ? 
that  the  talent  of  successful  introversion  is,  in  fact, 
the  key  to  popularity  just  now  ?  " 

"  Be  it  so  ;  but  is  it  not  also  evident  that  he  who 
climbs  by  a  stronger  ladder  will  reach  a  more  lasting 
fame?" 

"  Are  you  willing,  then,  that  we  consider  some  of 
the  weak  rounds  in  the  favorite  ladder  of  to-day?" 

"  Assuredly,  Ulysses." 

"  Is  it  true  that  the  plot  may  be  meager,  but  the 
mental  analysis  in  setting  it  forth  must  be  discrim- 
inating and  exhaustive  ?  In  unwinding  the  laby- 
rinthine processes  of  thought  developed  in  this  or 


374  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

that  possible  or  real  contact  with  others — especially 
as  relating  to  the  flaming  of  the  love-lamp  in  the 
hero  and  heroine — does  a  keen  eye  and  skillful  hand 
carry  the  reader  through  the  prolonged  distractions 
and  wild  upheavals  of  passion,  the  dull  throbbings 
of  despair,  the  feeble  meanings  of  hopelessness,  or  the 
bitter  lamentations  of  disappointment  ?  " 

"This  is  considered  fundamental,  Ulysses." 

"  But  do  you.  think  it  possible,  Achilles,  for  the 
healthy  mind  to  permit  a  Damocles  sword  to  hang 
over  it  in  terror  for  months,  or  to  remain  for  years  in 
sight  of  the  water  which  Tantalus  forever  presents, 
forever  withdraws  ?  Such  mental  conditions  are 
found  in  the  insane  asylum,  Achilles,  but  the  healthy 
mind,  with  the  quick  instinct  of  a  child,  sees,  reflects, 
decides.  Then,  since  it  is  either  weakness  or  wicked- 
ness that  causes  mental  inaction,  is  the  case  then  thus, 
that  the  particular  mental  states  which  require  sucli 
protracted  portrayal  are  diseases  of  the  mind  ?  " 

"  So  it  appears,  Ulysses." 

"  But  are  they  so  set  forth  in  the  novel,  Achilles?" 

"  That  is  quite  overlooked,  Ulysses ;  the  attempt 
is  to  make  them  the  most  fascinating  parts  of  the 
novel." 

"  It  appears,  then,  that,  since  we  are  not  warned, 'we 
may  inadvertently  imbibe  some  poison — not  because 
we  admire  such  characters,  but  because  we  have 
been  under  their  influence." 

"It  seems  that  you  are  riglit,  Ulysses.  In  these 
rushing  days  of  heart  and  brain,  there  is  but  one  out 
of  a  thousand  in  real  life  that  indulges  in  extended 
speculations  about  his  love-affairs ;  and  that  one  we 
have  read  and  studied  ad  nauseam — forever  on  the 
show-board  as  he  is  put  by  every  imitator  of  Hugo 
and  Eliot."" 

"  They  claim  a  departure  from  the  old  lines  on 
which  the  romance  was  run,  Achilles.  They  pretend 
to  renounce  that  school  of  fiction,  with  its  impossible 
situations  and  improbable  adventure,  culminating  in 
the  wildly  sensational  climax  ;  but  they  go  to  the 


SEVENTH  EXAMINATION.  375 

other  extreme  and  substitute  realism,  with  its  uni- 
versal metaphysical  genius  for  a  kind  of  spiritual 
vivisection,  and  give  us  ghastly  dissections  of  char- 
acter and  scientific  probings  of  the  hidden  motives 
and  secret  springs  of  action.  Is  not  this  a  question- 
able improvement?  It  is,  I  grant,  admissible  with 
purely  artistic  novel-writing,  but  only  so  far  as  it 
conduces  to  pleasure.  A  bed  of  rose-leaves  will 
turn  sour  through  frequent  use,  and  'linked  sweet- 
ness long  drawn  out'  through  the  pages  of  an  octavo 
novel  becomes  somewhat  stale  ere  the  close. 

"  We  follow  the  lovesick  Herman  through  ninety 
and  nine  variations  of  his  fever  ;  at  the  hundredth  we 
are  ready  to  toss  him  over  as  a  silly  fellow,  and  quit 
the  book  altogether.  He  looks  romantic,  we  feel 
sure,  standing  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  gay  group 
surrounding  the  fair  creature  who  had  a  mortgage  on 
his  heart  (whom  it  is  now  fashion  to  represent  as  a 
lady  with  preoccupied  affection  or  a  pre-engaged  des- 
tiny), in  a  brilliant  assembly,  sulking,  and  gnawing 
his  mustache,  but  in  real  life  we  should  call  him  a  dis- 
agreeable bore  only  fit  for  his  books,  cat,  and  library. 

"Dorothea  speaks  sweetly  and  gently  while  she 
takes  one  glove  off ;  speaks  gayly  and  gently  while 
she  tosses  it  on  the  mantel ;  or  with  a  fine  color  on 
her  cheek,  she  stoops  to  adjust  a  tidy  or  pick  up  the 
rose  just  fallen  from  her  belt.  Bless  you,  Dorothea! 
we  are  quite  indifferent  to  those  little  matters.  You 
may  pick  up  pins  and  adjust  your  draperies  to  your 
dear  little  heart's  content,  but  pray  do  not  expect  us 
to  be  in  a  state  of  bewildered  admiration  every  time 
you  turn  your  vain  little  head  or  raise  your  pink 
satin  slipper ! 

"  The  *  moving  accident '  and  dire  catastrophe 
which  gave  zest  to  the  romance,  and  indeed  to  the 
novels  after  Richardson's  time,  were  pushed  into 
exaggeration  and  sensuality  to  such  a  degree  as  to  be- 
come sensationally  vulgar,  and  they  justly  passed  into 
decline  and  oblivion.  But  the  other  extreme  is  now 
reached  in  the  barrenness  of  incident  and  the  plethora 


376  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

of  sentiment.  The  exigency  of  the  case  demanded 
careful  pruning,  but  no  such  demolition  of  the  boughs 
artd  branches  ;  and  while  in  the  new  departure  a 
brave  show  of  leaves  over  the  unsightly  trunk  was 
politic  and  artistic,  neither  art  nor  expediency  would 
justify  the  umbrageous  spread  of  a  forest  over  one 
poor  torso. 

"  Society  men  and  women,  particularly  (and  they 
are  the  popular  characters  in  vogue  for  the  novel  of 
this  era),  do  not  trouble  themselves  with  such  close 
scrutiny  of  motif m  those -whom  they  meet.  They 
have  not  the  time — they  are  in  a  vortex  ;  they  have  not 
the  taste  or  inclination — they  are  deep  in  aesthetics; 
they  have  not  the  talent — the  novel  and  the  magazine, 
the  club  and  the  newspaper,  furnish  current  news  and 
easy  diction  ;  and  as  for  the  rest,  they  inquire  Cui 
bono?  sip  their  sherbet,  and  vex  not  their  easy  souls; 
and  they  would  abhor  themselves  in  dust  and  ashes 
at  the  very  thought  of  prying  into  the  secret  cham- 
bers of  their  neighbors'  brains. 

"  The  romance  was  unhealthf ul,  with  its  lawless  com- 
binations of  circumstance  and  method,  its  escapades 
and  tragic  denouements,  its  marvellous  mingling  of 
high  and  low  life,  which  stimulated  vicious  appetites 
and  threw  so  rosy  a  charm  over  a  false  life,  that  the 
youth  were  enticed  into  a  search  for -its  counterpart  in 
real  life.  But  is  it  more  healthful,  think  you,  Achilles, 
to  teach  the  young  to  psychologize  the  souls  around 
them  to  such  an  extent,  that  they  pronounce,  with 
the  air  of  '  I  am  Sir  Oracle,'  the  underlying  motive 
when  only  the  action  is  patent  ?  In  the  art  of  diag- 
nosing mental  states,  may  they  not,  through  the 
subtle  operation  of  sympathy,  fall  into  them? 

"  Fascinating,  no  doubt,  is  the  study  of  human 
nature  to  many  minds,  and,  to  the  philanthropist  or 
the  minister  who  deals  directly  with  mind,  perhaps 
important ;  I  say  '  perhaps,'  because  for  purposes  of 
moral  suasion  I  \yould  rather  be  ignorant  of  the  lay 
of  the  spiritual  land,  with  its  biases,  peculiarities,  and 
tendencies — it  is  a  gradual  revelation  of  the  special 


SEVENTH  EXAMINATION.  377 

identity  of  a  man  that  is  best  met  and  appealed  to 
by  the  swift  charge  of  unstudied  oratory  unprej- 
udiced by  preconceived  notions  of  what  is,  was,  or 
might  be. 

"  This  analysis  of  motive  is  not  productive  of  good 
in  real  life — it  cheapens  goodness  and  degrades 
honor.  Why?  Because  it  cultivates,  under  the 
guise  of  character-reading — supposed  to  be  a  notable 
gift  and  of  vast  benefit  to  its  possessor — an  absolu- 
tism of  the  ego  princeps.  in  him  who  judges, 
and  a  habit  of  ever-present  suspicion  that  the  deed 
is  not  genuine,  because  of  another  and  more  selfish 
motive  than  the  apparent  one,  and  consequently  less 
worthy  of  admiration.  And  while  never  truth  was 
clearer  than  that  the  student  oftenest  projects  his 
own  image  upon  subjects  he  is  analyzing,  and  thus 
quite  unconsciously  dissects  himself,  never  is  this 
truth  realized  by  him  at  the  moment.  Really  he 
is  conjuring  in  his  brain  what  he  would  do  under 
like  circumstances,  as  he  can  never  be  sufficiently 
filled  with  the  personale  of  another  spirit  to  present 
it  infallibly. 

"And  now  if  you  urge,  Achilles,  that  his  charac- 
ters are  the  products  of  his  brain,  and  not  subject  to 
the  laws  of  life,  it  must  still  be  acknowledged  that  he 
collects  his  impressions  from  life  and  takes  them  for 
his  data  in  his  reasoning  processes  and  logical  con- 
clusions. Accustomed  to  regulate  the  mental  brains 
of  his  automata,  he  easily  assumes  that  the  living  are 
equally  subject  to  his  skillful  manipulations,  and  be- 
comes dogmatic  and  arbitrary  .in  his  judgments  of 
men,  which  are  sometimes  harsh  and  often  mistaken. 
All  of  this  tends  to  diminish  the  supply  of  that 
heavenly  charity  of  which  our  world  stands  in  so 
much  need. 

"  I  submit,  if  this  is  not  an  evil  demanding  instant 
remedy." 

"  What  say  you,  my  good  friends,  shall  we  nave 
some  plums  in  our  pudding  once  more  ?  It  is  becom- 
ing quite  pasty  in  our  mouths  through  lack  of  fruit 


378  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

and  spicy  condiment !  We  shall  keep  our  seats  in 
the  face  of  a  catastrophe  or  two,  and  a  '  moving 
accident '  would  be  pleasantly  suggestive  of  the  pano- 
rama of  life.  For  life,  the  model,  be  it  remembered,  of 
the  novelist,  is  full  of  dramatic  situations,  plots,  and 
counterplots,  and  only  of  interest  as  a  life  to  the 
general  reader  when  there  is  enough  vitality  in  it 
to  produce  or  arrange  them.  Some  lives  are  as  full 
of  '  moving  accidents  '  as  the  corals  on  the  neck  of 
the  babe — beads  of  color  and  of  aesthetic  outline — and 
shall  they  be  ignored  because,  forsooth,  certain 
authors,  being  introspective,  find  their  superabundant, 
motionless  sentiment  a  marketable  product  and  the 
best  capital  in  the  trade  of  book-making  !  " 

"  But,"  said  Thesetetus,  sharply,  "this  would  be  go- 
ing back  to  the  time  of  Scott ;  most  of  us  have  be- 
come quite  tired  of  grandiloquent  scenes  and  stilted 
heroes." 

"  No  doubt,  Thesetetus ;  I  know  many  orderly 
people  who  are  quite  tired  of  the  Bible,  but  it  is 
nevertheless  a  genuine  treasury  of  gold.  No,  let 
us  have  healthy  incident,  fresh  narrative,  and  true 
actors — not  puttering  puppets — on  the  stage  of  our 
ideal  novel.  Better  the  prolix  Richardson,  who  at 
least  was  true  to  his  intention  of  representing  life 
and  manners,  and  fell  not  into  masquerading  them 
like  the  hypocritical  divinity  that  presides  over  the 
destiny  of  the  remodelled  modern  novel.  For  if  the 
minutiae  of  daily  life  are  drawn  out  with  tedious 
exactness,  the  character  of  Pamela,  for  sweet  grace 
and  noble  dignity  in  perilous,  unexpected  situations, 
stands  without  a  rival  in  the  ranks  of  fiction;  while 
her  shy  prudence  and  native  wisdom,  her  unschooled 
tact  and  Christian  fidelity  to  principle,  give  a  rare 
luster  to  her  beauty  and  make  her  worthy  of  emulation 
in  private  life." 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  DOANE.  379 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LETTER   TO   AKTHUR   DOANE. 

"I  thank  the  goodness  and  the  grace 

That  on  my  life  have  shone, 
And  made  me  in  these  art-full  days 
A  friend  of  Arthur  Doane." 

EVEN  if  you  are,  my  dear  chum,  too  reverential  to 
enjoy  my  improved  version  of  the  old  stanza,  you  are 
not  too  humble  to  appreciate  the  compliment  con- 
tained in  it,  and  will,  1  hope,  make  due  acknowledg- 
ment for  the  same.  I  am  almost  smitten  with  re- 
morse when  I  consider  the  sad  truth  in  the  double 
entendre,  found  in  the  third  and  fourth  Iambuses  of 
the  third  verse.  That  I,  Channing  Earle,  should 
ever  live  to  play  a  double  part  in  life,  quite  staggers 
me.  Sometimes  I  am  tempted  to  pull  up  stakes  and 
pitch  my  tent,  elsewhere.  My  whole  course  of  life 
thus  far  has  shown  (when  there  was  method  enough 
in  it  to  show  anything)  that  the  bent  of  my  mind  is 
towards  mathematics — and  why  could  I  not  find  an 
honorable  profession  in  that  department,  and  so  be 
true  to  my  nature  and  my  taste?  Civil  engineering 
is  lucrative  and  of  sufficient  importance  to  command 
a  good  social  status ;  or  I  might  be  Professor  of 
Mathematics,  or  Astronomical  Professor  which  would 
be  just  to  my  mind. 

When  the  grind  is  hardest  in  this  field,  I  find 
myself  turning  to  "  conic  sections"  for  refreshment ; 
I  entertain  myself  with  cutting  the  maximum  para- 
bola from  a  given  right  cone,  and  find  the  exercise 
as  exhilarating  as  champagne,  or — since  that  simile 
will  be  without. effect  upon  your  temperate  soul — say 
Nicholas  elixir  of  vol.  ammonia,  and  as  soothing  as 
Chartreuse  cordial.  I  ask  myself  again  and  again  if 


380  THE  OPAL  QUEEN. 

I  have  any  right  to  even  attempt  to  turn  the  whole 
current  of  my  being  into  a  channel  where  it  can  never 
course  with .  the  full  steady  flow  of  a  river  that  re- 
ceives impetus  from  mountain  springs  and  gushing 
torrents  pouring  into  it  and  accelerating  its  course. 
There  are  no  hidden  springs  for  me  to  unearth  in 
all  the  gloomy,  arid  waste  of  land  you  call  literature. 
We  have  already  tons  too  many  books.  I  am  almost 
ready  to  excuse  the  vandalism  of  Caliph  Omar  when 
he  gave  his  command  to  destroy  the  Alexandrian 
library.  But  how  much  is  yet  to  be  learned  of  the 
starry  fields,  where  are  "  Arcturus,  Orion,  and  the 
chambers  of  the  south  1 "  How  much  room  is  there 
for  scientific  inquiry  and  investigation  in  discovering 
the  nature  of  planetary  influences,  star-dust  masses, 
aerial  and  lunar  tides,  and  revealing  God's  wonderful 
workings  in  the  harmonious  yet  complex  movements 
of  suns  and  systems  of  suns  !  Or  my  fondness  for 
the  solution  of  difficult  mathematical  problems  might 
be  exercised  to  advantage  in  some  of  the  applied 
sciences. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  ask  myself  if  my  parents 
may  not  reasonably  expect  the  gratification  and  be 
allowed  the  privilege  of  choosing  a  calling  for  me, 
especially  when  I  know  that  they  have  been  looking 
forward  for  twenty  years  to  the  fulfillment  of  a  cher- 
ished hope  in  regard  to  it.  Can  I  disappoint  them 
utterly  without  making  one  effort  to  attain  to  the 
height  of  their  wishes  ?  Could  I  bear  to  see  them 
bowed  down  with  grief  that  the  son  of  their  old  age 
—their  Benjamin,  their  only  one — should  deliberately, 
and,  as  it  would  seem  to  them,  maliciously  and 
obstinately  turn  his  back  upon  the  prestige  which  a 
long  line  of  illustrious  ancestors  gives  him,  set  aside 
the  claims  of  an  unborn  posterity,  and  be  the  first  to 
break  the  link  in  this  chain  of  celebrated  litterateurs? 

Art,  my  courage  fails,  I  must  still  longer  play  at 
this  work — though,  by  Dox,  the  truth  is  I  never  dug 
so  hard  in  my  life.  The  Latin  Syllabus  was  a  baga- 
telle to  it,  and  Homer  a  tennis-ball — but  in  the  sense 


LETTER  TO  ARTHUR  bOANE.  ^1 

of  accomplishing  anything  valuable  I  am  playing, 
fooling,  wasting  my  time,  and  wearing  out  rny 
patience.  This,  verily,  is  filial  devotion  with  a  ven- 
geance. The  question  is,  will  it  pay  ?  as  we  say  in 
the  mercenary  language  of  the  day.  That,  however, 
is  a  conundrum  that  time  alone  can  decide.  Perhaps 
I  have  already  an  upward  tendency.  The  author  is 
expected  to  philosophize  occasionally,  even  if  he  be 
simply  a^novelist,  and  if  abstraction  is  any  indication 
of  a  philosopher,  there  will,  according  to  present 
appearances,  soon  be  sufficient  proof  that  I  may  lay 
claim  to  that  distinction. 


ight  mys 

or  been  caught  in  strange  "tricks  and  manners."  I 
turned  the  water  spiggot  and  put  my  match  under 
it  to  light  the  gas,  brushed  my  hair  with  my  hand 
mirror,  folded  my  handkerchief  and  put  it  in  the 
ring  at  breakfast,  and  carried  off  the  table-napkin  in 
my  pocket  ;  and  had  I  been  the  cook,  doubtless 
would  have  held  the  egg  in  my  hand  and  put  my 
watch  in  to  boil.  I  have  not  quite  come  to  putting 
my  coat  and  trousers  into  bed  and  hanging  myself 
over  a  chair,  but  falling  into  a  puzzle  this  morning, 
over  one  of  the  knotty  points  in  this  "Rise  and 
Progress"  business  while  washing  my  hands,  I  actu- 
ally prolonged  the  operation  of  wiping  them  for  a 
whole  hour! — and  would  no  doubt,  have  been  obliv- 
ious of  the  whole  transaction,  had  not  Phillis  been 
a  spy  upon  my  movements.  Passing  by  my  door, 
she  saw  me  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with 
my  eyes  fixed  upon  a  corner  of  the  ceiling  and  my 
hands  mechanically  going  through  the  drying  process 
with  the  towel.  Phillis,  having  become  somewhat 
accustomed  to  my  eccentricities,  is  in  a  state  of  con- 
stant expectancy  for  some  new  and  surprising  devel- 
opment in  this  quarter  of  the  house,  so  she  thought 
nothing  of  it  until  an  hour  later  (as  she  declares 
upon  oath)  she  found  me  still  standing,  wiping  and 


382  fits  OPAL 

rubbing,  rubbing  and  wiping  continuously,  and  with 
such  a  dazed  expression  on  my  face  that  she  imme- 
diately called  Superba — who  routed  me  out  of 
that  trance,  I  can  tell  you,  quicker  than  lightning. 
And  a  shock  it  was,  to  come  from  the  seventh  heaven 
of  philosophical  speculation  to  the  pomps  and  vanities 
of  this  life.  But  it  was  an  experience — and  I  had 
"  worked  it  out."  It  will  never  again  be  a  marvel 
to  me  that  Socrates  could  stand  from  dawn  to  dawn 
through  the  livelong  night,  while  a  soldier  at  Potidea, 
looking  into  the  sky  in  that  fixed,  immovable  atti- 
tude, solving  his  great  problems  of  the  secret  of  life, 
or,  as  he  expressed  it,  "why  anything  comes  into 
being,  exists,  -or  perishes." 

Why  have  I  not  heard  from  you?    Write  at  once  to 

Yours  faithfully, 

CHANNING. 

P.  S. — Nearly  all  learned  men  are  mosaics,  Flor- 
entine or  Roman,  according  to  the  locality  of  the 
birth,  style,  and  quality  of  materials  used  in  their 
composition,  and  the  master  of  design  and  his  co-op- 
eratives, that  have  the  handling  or  construction  of 
them — mstruction,  we  call  it,  but  is  there  not,  side 
by  side  with  this  process,  the  coequal  of  imperceptible 
construction  of  character  progressing? 

Examine  one.  By  careful  analysis,  you  find  the 
glass,  trenchant,  cutting,  of  a  Juvenal  or  a  Thackeray ; 
the  color  of  a  Titian  or  a  Turner ;  the  passion  of  a 
Shakespeare;  the  imagery  of  a  Moliere  or  a  Massey  ; 
the  harmony  of  a  Virgil;  the  simplicity  of  a  Homer; 
the  precision  of  an  Archimedes  ;  the  delicacy  of  a 
Longfellow  orVanBeust;  the  patience  of  a  Palissy; 
the  fearlessness  of  a  Carlyle  ;  the  richness  of  a  Ten- 
nyson ;  the  dexterity  of  a  Hugo  or  a  Dumas — all 
these  and  more ;  yes,  more  than  the  25,000  shades  of 
color  in  the  smalts  of  mosaics,  are  the  innumerable 
potent  agencies  that  go  to  make  up  that  interesting 
and  valuable  piece  of  work,  an  educated  man  ! 

Mere  bits,  in  fact,  of  the  lives  of  other  men  and 


LETTS  ft  TO  ARTHUR  1)0  AN  E.  383 

other  women  wonderfully  arranged  into  this  com- 
pound we  call  a  new  being;  very  complex,  very 
intricately  and  insensibly  blended — nothing  but  a 
mosaic  after  all ! — but  a  mosaic  made  by  the  Divine 
Artificer,  in  which  the  vitalizing  cement  not  only 
fixes  the  tesserae,  but  assimilates  them  so  as  to  pro- 
duce new  and  artistic  designs  ! 

Once  in  a  while  an  original  flashes  into  being — a 
Bunvan,  that  magnificent  monolith,  made  out  of  a 
simple  shaft  quarried  from  God's  word,  which  awes 
and  inspires  by  its  height,  its  simple  majesty,  and 
the  glimpses  of  heaven  we  get  from  its  top,  as  well 
as  the  lessons  for  earth  we  derive  from  its  base  ! — or 
a  Homer,  that  mountain  of  granite  boulders  washed 
up  from  the  ocean  of  eternity  upon  the  sands  of 
time ! — inimitably  picturesque  in  its  rugged  disorder, 
unapproachably  sublime  in  its  towering  heights,  its 
raging  torrents,  and  the  secret,  musical  flow  of  its 
icy  depths ;  with  its  snowy  top  now  glistening  in 
the  white  sunlight,  now  rosy  with  the  "after-glow," 
now  rich  and  varied  with  the  purple  circumambient 
air  marking  its  lines  in  deeper  tone  and  shades  of 
color  down  every  ridge  and  chasm,  and  the  massive 
shadows  of  its  rock-ribbed  breast,  it  stands  in  the 
still  beauty  of  solemn  strength,  a  beacon,  a  banner, 
a  model — a  shining  mark  for  all  mankind  ! 

The  foregoing,  my  dear  Art,  are  some  verbatim 
extracts  from  this  morning's  "  examination  "  on 
Originalit}r  in  Literature. 

The  mosaic  figure  pleases  me  very  much,  and 
suggests  another  directly  in  my  cherished  line  of 
thought.  You  have,  for  example,  the  corpuscles  of 
a  Dickens,  we  will  say — that  will  give  you  richness 
of  tone  and  coloring ;  the  fibrin  of  a  Carlyle — that 
will  indicate  strength  ;  the  albumen  for  toughness — 
and  so  on,  I  need  not  go  on  with  all  the  constituent 
elements  of  the  mortal  man — you  will  see  from  this 
how  easy  it  is  to  construct  an  illustrative  man  on 

this  basis. 

CHAN. 


384  THE  OPAL 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

EIGHTH    "  EXAMINATION  " — TIME   AND    PLACE    FOR 
WRITING STEADINESS  TO  FINISH  WORK. 

"TELL  me,  Etithydemus,  if  it  is  true,  as  physiolo- 
gists assert,  that  some  of  our  bodily  functions  whose 
movements  are  beyond  the  control  of  the  will  are 
governed  by  habit?  As  for  instance,  the  stomach 
consents  with  reluctance  to  a  change  in  the  dining- 
hour  from  midday  to  evening,  if  it  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  former,  or  resents  the  intrusion  of  a 
dinner  at  noon,  if  it  has  been  accustomed  to  the  lat- 
ter?" 

"  I  have  good  reason  to  assent  to  this,  Ulysses,  if 
no  physiologist  had  uttered  it ;  for  while  on  my  visit 
to  Achilles,  whose  dining-hour  is  six.  my  head 
thumped  with  provoking  regularity  every  afternoon 
for  the  meal  to  which  it  had  been  accustomed  at  mid- 
day." 

"  It  does  not,  therefore,  appear  strange  to  you, 
Euthydemus,  that  the  powers  of  the  mind  should 
run  more  easily  if  they  have  fixed  times  for  their 
action-?" 

"Assuredly  not,  Ulysses  ;  man  is  called  a  bundle 
of  habits,  and  the  strange  thing  is,  that  he  ever  ac- 
complishes anything  without  system  and  regularity 
—the  genius,  is,  I  think,  the  only  exception  to  the 
rule  that  method  is  productive  of  the  best  results." 

"  For  the  average  man,  then,  it  would  appear  to 
you  best  that  a  time  for  writing  should  be  selected, 
and  that  time  daily  adhered  to  ?  " 

"  I  agree  with  you  that  this  is  necessary  for  the 
worker,  Ulysses.  It  will  doubtless  be  a  triumph  to 
train  one's  self  in  such  a  habit  that  when  the  harness 


LETTER   TO  ARTHUR  DO  AXE.  .".SH 

is  put  on  the  steed  will  go,  with  the  precision  of  the 
trained  beast  of  the  fire-engine." 

"  Methodical  regularity  accompanied  by  good  di- 
gestion will  secure  this  good  result,  Euthydemns. 
Take  care  of  your  liver,  and  write  by  the  clock." 

'•  Some  write  best  in  the  morning,  some  in  the 
afternoon,  some  only  at  night  when  quiet  reigns. 
The  time  is  immaterial,  with  the  exception  which  I 
will  mention — although  the  presumption  is  that  stu- 
dents acquainted  with  hygiene  know  it  well — there 
must  be  an  interval  of  rest  after  each  meal.  One 
hour,  at  least,  must  be  given  to  the  digestive  facul- 
ties, and  rest  or  quiet  recreation  may  be  taken  then  ; 
and  unless  the  press  of  work  is  heavy,  two  hours 
should  be  taken  for  the  reinforcement  oif  the  physical 
being.  Npthing  is  gained  by  neglect  of  this  rule  : 
over-zealousne.>s  must  be  paid  for  in  inferior  work  as 
well  as  waste  of  nerve  and  tissue.  Nature's  equa- 
tions must  -have  balanced  members  if  there  is  to  be 
tranquillity  of  soul.  There  must  be  no  appearance 
of  effort  in  a  work  designed  to  please,  therefore 
select  the  time  for  your  writing  when  the  spirit  is 
willing  and  the  flesh  strong — let  it  breathe  of  roses, 
morning-dew,  and  hill-tops,  and  not  of  heated  draw- 
ing-rooms which  breed  moody  speculations,  vaporous 
inanities,  and  dolorous  situations." 

"  And  would  you  consider  it  reasonable  also,  Enthy- 
dcmus,  to  have  some  place  secure  from  approach  or 
interruption,  and  to  guard  your  nerves  against  undue 
excitement,  especially  that  \vhich  arises  from  the  play 
of  bad  passions,  such  as  anger,  hate,  and  revenge?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,  Ulysses,  Carlyle  understood  that 
when  he  insisted  upon  being  master  of  his  own  house 
so  that  he  could  bang  his  door  in  the  faces  of  those 
whom  he  disliked." 

"A  figurative  expression,  Euthydemus,  to  indicate 
the  necessity  of  freedom  from  intrusion.  For  the 
best  work,  silence  and  seclusion  are  essential,  espe- 
cially when  there  is  a  drag  upon  the  spirit  in  the 
shape  of  a  diseased  body. 

25 


386  THE  OPAL  QUEEX. 

u  There  are  different  tastes.  We  cannot,  if  we 
would,  bring  all  to  tlie  same  mode  of  acting  and 
thinking,  any  more  than  we  can  compel  them  to  like 
the  same  dish.  You,  my  Clito,  are  fond  of  your 
gravy  on  your  potato,  but  Aristarchns,  who  chooses 
liis  upon  the  meat,  would  complain  of  indigestion  for 
a  week,  if  you  forced  him  to  eat  of  your  dish ;  while 
Critias  has  no  relish  for  his  dinner  unless  a  clean, 
space  upon  the  plate  is  dedicated  to  the  sauce,  so  that 
lie  may  tincture  this  and  that  to  his  fancy.  To  be 
tolerant  of  other  people's  opinions  and  notions  is  not 
easy,  but  indispensable  to  right  living. 

"  Mi-.  Tossoft'  writes  to-day  with  enthusiasm  a  hur- 
ried criticism  of  Froude's  *  Caesar;'  to-morrow  he  is 
fired  with  indignation  against  the  British  Occupation 
of  Alexandria,  and  begins  an  elaborate  article  for  the 
press ;  the  next  day  he  takes  up  the  discussion  of 
Social  Reforms,  and  adds  some  twenty  pages  to  its 
length  ;  and  if  you  glance  at  the  shelves  in  his  book- 
case, you  will  see  scores  of  MSS.  in  various  stages  of 
preparation  and  completion.  Does  it  seem  to  you, 
Clito,  that  he  is  wasting  his  forces?  " 

"  So  it  seems  to  me,  Ulysses." 

"  You  would  agree,  then,  with  me  that  it  is  better 
to  finish  as  you  go,  especially  in  portraiture.  Do  not 
leave  until  some  future  time — which  is  no  time — the 
delineation  of  .some  strong  point  in  character.  You 
will  work  most  successfully  when  your  thoughts  are 
all  heated  and  fused,  ready  for  the  mould.  In  the 
glow  of  composition  with  nervous  energy  and  feeling 
held  up  to  their  best  level,  your  touch  will  be  more 
unerring  than  afterwards,  when  the  palette  lies  daubed 
and  the  brushes  stiff.  Then,  too,  you  are  in  best  trim 
to  keep  the  mind  up  to  your  first  impression-  -for  you 
will  find  one  of  the  most  difficult  as  well  as  import- 
ant tasks  belonging  to  your  art  is  that  of  reproducing 
the  exact  strength  of  the  first  impressions  ; — difficult, 
because  of  the  slow  transcript  by  pen  and  paper; 
important,  because  rarely  is  the  thought  or  scene 
presented  to  the  mind  twice  alike,  and  never  as 


LETTER   TO  ARTHUR  DOAX&  387 

vividly  as  at  first.  Have  you  not  found  it  so, 
Clito?" 

"  I  sometimes  start  with  a  thought,  Ulysses, 
which  turns  out,  when  worded  and  presented, 
quite  different  from  the  original — a  flower  of  an- 
other species — but  if  1  keep  on  adding  flower  to 
flower,  I  bring  my  sunflower  at  last,  and  the  lilies 
are  all  thrown  in  !  " 

"In  conclusion,  then,  my  good  young  friends, 
since  you  know  your  duty,  if  you  consider  it  best 
to  gird  on  such  habits  as  we  have  now  examined, 
you  will  become  even-tempered  and  calm.  Lite- 
rary men  ought  to  be  the  most  placid  and  sweetest 
tempered  of  men,  because  their  brain  is  their  mi- 
crocosm, where  there  is  little  to  distract.  Living 
with  the  heroes  of  history,  or  those  of  their  own 
creation,  they  are  far  away  from  the  whirl  and  tur- 
moil of  busy  life.  They  would,  indeed,  become 
quite  fossilized  if  it  were  not  for  family  and  social 
ties — a  Xanthippe  or  a  brace  of  night-cherubs 
will  keep  them  awake  to  the  demands  of  the 
living." 

"This  is  another  reason  why  I  wish  to  increase 
the  number  of  authors — for  blessed  is  peace!" 

"  Brothers  in  art,  who  live  for  other's  needs 
In  duty's  bondage,  mercy's  gracious  deeds, 
Of  all  who  toil  beneath  the  circling  sun, 
Whose  evening  rest  than  yours  more  fairly  one? 
Though  many  a  cloud  your  struggling  morn  obscures, 
What  sunset 'brings  a  brighter  sky  than  yours?" 


THE    END. 


1,-tt 


»r«^e9B^C 


